Note 

The  friendly  eyes  that  read  these  pages, 
knowing  the  pathetic  fatts  relating  to  their 
publication,  will  not  be  content  without  a  word 
to  tell  to  other  readers  the  story  that  will 
cause  one  and  all  to  look  on  the  little  book 
in  the  same  sympathetic  mood. 

The  trips  among  the  scenes  of  the  storied 
past,  here  recorded,  were  taken  not  so  much 
in  search  of  health  as  in  search  of  diversion 
from  the  sad  employment  of  watching  the  in- 
exorable approach  of  mortal  disease.  The 
writing  was  undertaken  to  occupy  a  vigorous 
mind,  conscious  that  its  tenement  would  not 
long  endure. 

Alas  !  the  task  was  not  done  before  its  pur- 
pose had  been  fully  completed,  and  to  others 
was  left  the  duty  of  reading  the  final  proofs. 
Such  imperfections  as  may  be  found  should  be 
charged  to  this  account,  and  all  the  excel- 
lences are  to  be  credited  to  the  brave  soul 
that  fought  her  fight  so  silently  that  only  a 
very  few  closest  friends  knew  of  the  unequal 

battle. 

C.  o.  Cr. 


•s  .& 


ii 

*Q    O 

^s 


•s  §•- 


FLOWERS 

FROM  MEDIEVAL 

HISTORY 

BY 

MINNIE  D.  KELLOGG 

/  never  can  feel 

sure  of  any  truth  but  from 

a  clear  perception 

of  its  beauty. 

Keats 


ILLUSTRATED 


PAUL  ELDER  AND  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS  •  SAN  FRANCISCO 


COPYRIGHT,  1910 
BY  PAUL  ELDER  AND  COMPANY 


Contents 

Tag. 

Advertisement vii 

By  Way  of  Introduction xi 

Flowers  of  History  from  the  Romantic 

Thirteenth  Century 3 

Mystics  as  Builders 15 

The  Golden  Madonna  of  Rheims  .  .26 
The  Little  Old  Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and 

the  Imagiers 38 

The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres  .  .  50 
Caen:  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau  .  73 
The  Grandniece  of  the  Grand  Inquisitor  87 
Stray  Leaves  from  Old,  Old  Books  .  .98 
The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century :  A 

Deduffion 118 

A  Word  Regarding  Bibliography  .  .139 
Index 143 


- 


Illustrations 

Facing 
Pagi 

The  Abbatical  Church  of  Saint  Ouen  ....  Title 
As  Art,  Early  Painting  is  Often  Taken  too  Seri- 
ously; but  as  Literature,  it  is  Charming     .      .  xiv 
The  Crucifix  in  the  Town  Hall  of  Rouen  ...  4 
The  Virgin  Greets  the  Angel  of  Death     ...  8 

Sainte  Chapelle 10 

Interior  of  Sainte  Chapelle 12 

Saint  Martin  Dividing  His  Coat,  from  an   Old 

Antiphone 20 

From  the  Certosa  of  Pavia 22 

Tomb  of  Dante,  Ravenna 24 

A  Recent  Tribute  to  Clovis  and  Saint  Remi,  on 

the  Interior  Frieze  of  the  Pantheon,  Paris     .  26 

The  Flying  Buttress 32 

The  Sculptured  Saint  Upon  a  Gothic  Cathedral .  34 
In  the   Sixteenth   Century  the  French  Academy 
Changed  the  Name  of  the  Imagiers*  Guild  to 

the  Sculptors' 42 

A  Thirteenth  Century  Window 44 

The  Old-  Time  House  of  Prayer,  which  Still  Dom- 
inates the  City  of  Chartres 52 

A  Pillar  at  Chartres 54 

A  View  Through  the  Port  ail  of  Chartres      .      .56 

A  Detail  of  the  Port  ail  Septentrional ....  60 

South  Portal  of  Chartres 64 

A  Page  from  the  Sculptured  "  Bible  of  the  Laity," 

Chartres  .  68 


Illustrations 

Altar-piece  at  Chartres 70 

William  the  Conqueror's  Old  Fortress  .  .  -74 
Dinan 84 

Old  Moats  Do  Make  Such  Charming  Gardens  .  86 
A  Peep  Into  the  Cranium  of  a  Bible  Reader  in 

Lope  de  Vega's  Time 88 

The  Literal,  Limited  God  of  a  Fanatic  and  Father 

Adam  Stock-taking  in  Eden 92 

A  Tribute  to  the  Scribes  of  the  Dark  Ages  .  .100 

The  Baptistry  Doors 1 02 

A  Page  from  the  Bible  of  Jean  Sans  Peur  .  .  1 10 
Head  of  Justice,  from  Fiore's  Group  .  .  .  .130 
An  Ideal  of  the  Gracious  Republic  of  Venice, 

Paul  Veronese 134 

A  Mediaeval  Expression  of  Justice  Attended  by 

Archangels,  by  Fiore 136 


[vi] 


r 


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*HESE  accounts  all  relate  to  places  and  ob- 
jects that  the  uncommercial  traveler  may 
casually  run  upon  at  some  turn  of  his  way. 
Subjects  mentioned  in  Baedeker  have  been 
considered  here  reflectively  rather  than  de- 
scriptively. Although  I  do  not  propose  to  an- 
alyze the  soil  in  which  these  flowers  of  history 
have  sprung  up,  nor  to  speak  of  the  rank 
weeds  growing  by  their  sides^  I  have  tried 
not  to  blight  these  blossoms  with  falsehood. 
Certainly  one-half  of  the  truth  is  as  true  as 
the  other  and  it  may  be  infinitely  pleasant er. 
As  far  as  they  go ',  these  little  historiettes  are 
based  upon  evidence  and  authority. 

I  want  to  teacb  you  so  much  history  that  your 
sympathy  may  grow  continually  wider  and  you  may 
be  able  to  realize  past  generations  of  men  just  as 
you  do  the  present,  sorrowing  for  them  when  they 
failed,  triumphing  with  them  when  they  pre- 
vailed; for  I  find  this  one  conviflion  never  chang- 
ing with  me  but  always  increasing,  that  one 
cannot  live  a  life  manfully  without  a  wide  world 
of  sympathy  and  love  to  exercise  it  in. 

—  Burne-yones  to  His  Son. 

[vii] 


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Suggested  itineraries  for  cathedral  trips  in 
Normandy,  giving  monuments  of  the  first  or- 
der only,  places  readily  reached  by  rail: 

First.  Land  at  Bologne  sur  Mer,  Amiens, 
Laon,  Rheims,  Paris,  Saint  Denis,  Chartres, 
Caen,  Bayeux,  Mt.  San  Michele,  embark 
from  Cherbourg. 

Second.  Land  from  England  at  Dieppe,  or 
from  America  at  Havre,  proceed  to  Rouen, 
which  possesses  the  most  perfeff  example  of 
later  Gothic  in  the  great  abbatical  Church 
of  Saint  Ouen;  an  excellent  example  of  flam- 
boyant Gothic  in  Saint  Maclou ;  and  a  large, 
irregular  but  imposing  Gothic  cathedral  on  the 
order  of  Rheims;  thence  to  Mt.  San  Michele, 
most  unique  of  medieval  monuments ;  thence 
to  Caen  and  Bayeux  near  by  it,  Chartres  and 
Paris.  Amiens  and  Rheims  being  very  simi- 
lar, and  on  the  order  of  Chartres  and  Notre 
Dame  of  Paris,  are  not  included  in  this  itin- 
erary. 'The  traveler  to  whom  time  is  money 
will  be  greatly  tried  by  the  connexions  made 
and  lost  by  the  trains  in  Normandy  that  stop 
at  small  places.  Both  these  itineraries  respett 
the  idiosyncrasies  of  French  railroads. 

'The  motorist,  rejoicing  in  the  excellent  Nor- 
man roads,  can  combine  these  itineraries  very 
easily — taking  in  the  cathedrals  of  Le  Mans, 
Bourg,  Beauvais  and  Coutances.  I  would 

[viii] 


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especially  call  his  attention  to  the  small  but 
interesting  Early  Norman  church  at  Do/s, 
and  to  the  walled  town  of  San  Mario  on  the 
sea,  with  picturesque  little  Dinan,  fashionable 
Dinard,  and  a  dirty  little  fishing  village 
near  by. 


[ix] 


By  W^ay  of  Introduction 

ji /TODERN  invention  has  actually  reflecJedup- 
-*-'-*•  on  ancient  history:  the  railroad,  the  steam 
derrick  and  the  -photograph  have  changed  our 
conceptions  of  the  past.  Written  history  is 
now  accepted  as  its  author  s  opinion,  while 
tangible  records  stand  forth  as  faffs. 

'This  attitude  brings  the  Middle  Ages  par- 
ticularly near  to  us,  for  though  its  people 
wrote  comparatively  little,  they  were  wonder- 
ful builders:  their  art  was  more  literally 
expressive  than  the  classic;  then,  too,  of  course, 
it  is  better  preserved. 

While  the  Greeks  and  Romans  were  our 
schoolmasters,  the  Europeans  of  the  Middle 
Ages  are  our  ancestors.  Their  experience  fore- 
shadows our  own;  for  however  far  removed 
from  us  in  thought  and  acJion  they  may  have 
been,  they  were  akin  to  us  in  feeling. 

though  the  rude  pioneers  of  Christianity 
were  often  intensely  cruel,  as  you  follow  their 
history,  you  may  meet  with  some  gentle  deed 
springing  from  the  good  seed,  even  when  sown 
in  stony  places,  with  some  attion  in  its  sweet- 

[xi] 


By  Way  of  Introduction 

ness  and  humility  entirely  beyond  the  pagan 
world.  In  their  childish  story  one  may  trace 
the  early  workings  of  the  Christian  ideal.  It 
did  not  control  behavior •,  nor  did  it  always 
direct  it  wisely ;  morality,  being  judicial  and 
scientific,  implies  a  certain  maturity  of  mind. 
Religion  is  simple ;  it  is  unlogical,  sentimental 
and  impulsive.  Whatever  this  indefinable  in- 
stinct may  be,  it  has  manifested  itself  as  a 
spiritualizing  force  in  morality  and  an  initia- 
tive force  in  art. 

Religion  has  in  it  a  craving  for  a  loveli- 
ness beyond  all  literal  perception  of  the  senses  ; 
a  philosophic  mind  projects  this  ideal  in  con- 
templation ;  an  artistic  mind,  in  symbol;  for, 
as  Michael  Angelo  explains,  "Rash  is  the 
thought  and  vain  that  maketb  beauty  from 
the  senses  grow." 

I'he  Greeks  did  develop  an  art  from  the 
motif  of  physical  beauty,  however,  but  their 
statues,  executed  before  art  became  mature 
enough  to  produce  that  beauty,  have  no  mes- 
sage, while  one  often  catches  something  high 
and  holy  from  a  very  early  Christian  image. 
It  may  radiate  from  a  pretty  smile  on  the  face 
of  a  crude  Madonna,  or  a  graceful  upturned 
head,  in  a  figure  entirely  destitute  of  anatomy, 
which  looks  as  though  the  simple  craftsman  had 
called  upon  a  higher  power  than  knowledge. 


By  Way  of  Introduction 

Spiritual  beauty  being  the  ideal  in  Christian 
art,  the  image,  however  rude,  which  suggests 
it,  makes  its  appeal  in  the  charmed  language 
of  that  loving  religion. 

Medieval  archives  have  been  ransacked 
by  Protestants  for  the  errors  of  Catholicism ; 
by  political  economists,  who  even  penetrate  to 
the  Dark  Ages  in  search  of  the  chilly  lessons 
of  the  dismal  science,  for  wisdom;  and  between 
them  what  a  conception  we  have!  But  it  is 
not  the  whole  story,  for  Chaucer  assures  us 
the  Moyen  Age  was  a  fairly  livable  period, 
peopled  by  beings  like  ourselves;  moreover,  it 
was  an  artistic  age  which  has  left  us  not 
only  a  wonderful  architecture  but  two  supreme 
poets. 

Perhaps  the  fairest  chroniclers  of  such  a 
period  are  its  own  artists,  great  and  small, 
for  history  has  grown  too  democratic  to  con- 
fine herself  to  kings,  however  worthy.  She 
does  not  find  the  crude  carver  voiceless  who, 
in  default  of  skill,  surrounds  his  Madonna 
with  gold  and  loads  her  with  rude  jewels; 
indeed,  she  often  finds  her  sweetest  flowers 
growing  between  the  lines  of  an  unskilful 
brush  or  chisel. 

Although  as  painting,  medieval  efforts  are 
often  taken  too  seriously,  as  literature  they 
are  charming,  for  they  speak  of  the  good  and 

[xiii] 


By  Way  of  Introduction 

the  beautiful  as  their  Age  conceived  it.  While 
the  written  stories  of  the  time  were  shallow 
and  coarse  beyond  our  endurance,  its  -painter; 
were  giving  us  their  accounts  of  this  life  and 
the  next  {particularly  the  next}.  First  come 
bright,  pretty  colors  prettily  placed,  pretty 
thoughts  of  happy  angels.  tfhen  gold  back- 
grounds give  way  to  skies,  and  shadows  creep 
onto  the  canvas.  'Then  they  begin  to  tell  sto- 
ries; so  eager  they  are  that  they  cram  four 
or  jive  pictures  into  one,  dotting  the  little 
scenes,  by  way  of  parenthesis,  into  the  back- 
grounds. 

'These  pictures  give  the  other  half  of  the 
truth,  the  tenderer  side  of  the  old  life  and 
theology.  What  sympathetic  Bible  scholars 
some  of  the  artists  became!  And,  in  general, 
the  greatest  were  the  tenderest.  Albert  Dur- 
er's  Evangelists  are  interesting  character 
studies  for  all  time.  He  conceives  of  Saint 
Mark  as  a  plain,  simple  enthusiast ;  of  Saint 
Paul,  as  a  broad-minded,  thoughtful  man 
whom  he  even  imagines  to  be  bald.  He  does 
not  try  to  make  either  of  them  exattly  hand- 
some, but  the  way  Mark  looks  up  to  Paul  is 
most  winning.  A  little  later  Andrea  del  Sarto 
paints  a  splendid  account  of  the  warring  doc- 
tors of  the  Church,  which  shows  clearly  he 
saw  beyond  them :  but  this  takes  us  into  the 

[xiv] 


As  Art,  Early  Painting  is 

Often  Taken  too  Seriously ;  but  as  Literature, 

it  is  Charming. 


By  Way  of  Introduction 

Renaissance  which  has  been  defined  as  a  mar- 
riage of  the  Grecian  and  the  Gothic. 

A  strift  analysis  has  come  into  art  and  it 
is  creeping  into  life, — our  race  childhood  is 
drawing  to  a  close  but  not  without  leaving 
us  many  things  that  are  sweet  to  remember. 

W^e  tell  our  children  some  of  the  very  same 
stories  that  the  wandering  story-tellers  used 
to  relate  to  good  knights  and  their  fair  ladies 
in  the  old  baronial  halls ', — Cinderella,  Beauty 
and  the  Beast,  or  Puss  in  Boots, —  only  the 
knights  and  their  ladies  believed  them.  'There 
is  a  pathos  in  medieval  story  ;  it  is  a  tragedy 
of  misdirected  effort  (as  perhaps  all  history  is), 
only  the  medieval  tragedy  strikes  home.  Its 
atJors  were  people  of  our  own  blood  and  of 
our  own  Church — our  own  people  only  under 
delusions  from  which  we  have  emancipated 
ourselves.  To  understand  their  story  we  must 
take  them  as  children  and  listen  with  them 
for  the  imaginary  voices  that  lead  them  on. 

A  veritable  allegory  of  the  Age  of  Faith 
was  presented  on  the  great  stage  of  history 
in  12 1 2,  when  two  enormous  armies  of  little 
boys  and  girls  started  from  France  and  Ger- 
many singing,  to  march  to  the  Holy  Land; 
if  any  of  these  children  turned  back,  none  of 
them  seem  to  have  found  their  old  homes. 

As  far  as  is  known  to  history,  one  child 

[XV] 


By  Way  of  Introduction 

alone  returned  as  an  aged  pilgrim,  to  tell  the 
tale, — how  the  bones  of  the  children  strewed 
the  mountainside;  how  they  had  been  em- 
barked on  unseaworthy  vessels  to  be  sold  into 
slavery;  how  few,  how  very  few,  ever  reached 
their  goal;  how  few,  how  very  few,  ever 
remained  pure  and  holy. 

Connected  with  this  tragedy  was  a  horrible 
pope  and  a  horrible  doge,  but  now  they  seem 
but  foils  to  the  purity  of  the  children,  it  was 
all  so  long  ago.  And  that  the  mystic  beauty 
of  that  little  legion  may  live  lyrically  in  our 
life,  the  Twentieth  Century  has  set  their  pa- 
thetic march  to  music  in  stately  oratorio  ;  for 
pure  aspiration  is  the  melody  of  melodies,  the 
veritable  flower  of  history. 

A  certain  childish  disinterestedness  was  the 
tender  grace  of  the  Age  of  Faith, — "  the  ten- 
der grace  of  a  day  that  is  dead"  It  must 
pass  from  a  broader  age ;  taking  all  faftors 
duly  into  account  even  drives  it  from  serious 
history  its  proportion  is  so  inconsiderable. 

'The  life  of  Saint  Francis,  who  espoused  My 
Lady  Poverty,  is  one  of  the  sweetest  examples 
of  mediaeval  disinterestedness.  Viewed  liter- 
ally, the  accounts  pifture  a  crazy  man  preach- 
ing to  birds  and  fishes,  making  a  bargain  with 
a  wolf  and  injudiciously  mortifying  his  flesh 
till  he  became  blind  and  useless.  Viewed  by 

[xvi] 


By  Way  of  Introduction 

the  light  of  their  influence  his  teachings 
were  revolutionary, — they  brought  new-found 
energy  and  sympathy  into  the  Church;  yet, 
at  best,  they  were  only  the  teachings  of 
Christ,  without  the  Savior's  beautiful  sanity. 
Viewed  by  the  results  he  brought  about, 
Saint  Francis  must  have  been  one  of  the  pro- 
foundest  of  men,  and  yet  his  wisdom,  if  he 
had  any,  was  only  that  of  the  heart. 

Sabatier  has  written  a  life  of  Francis,  at 
once  scholarly,  judicious  and  vivid,  but  as  the 
Franciscan  Father  remarked,  he  wrote  the 
life  of  Mr.  Francis.  If  you  would  learn  of 
Saint  Francis  of  blessed  memory, you  must  study 
by  yourself  with  loving  diligence  a  childish 
old  book  which  tells  of  the  miracles  wrought 
through  the  taff  of  Saint  Francis — "The  Little 
Flowers  of  Saint  Francis."  The  fruits  of  his- 
tory others  may  put  before  us,  but  the  passing 
fragrance  of  the  flowers  we  must  perceive 
for  ourselves. 

I  here  submit  for  your  interpretation  cer- 
tain incidents  that  seem  to  me  the  outgrowth 
of  the  fine  feeling  of  the  impulsive  Moyen  Age. 


FLOWERS 

FROM  MEDLEVAL 

HISTORY 


Flowers  of  History 

From  the  Romantic  Thirteenth 

Century 

I  HAVE  borrowed  my  title  from  a  Thir- 
teenth Century  chronicle,  of  disputed 
authorship,  purporting  to  be  a  history 
of  the  world,  but  from  447  A.  D.  on  it 
is  engrossed  with  the  story  of  England. 
From  this  insular  partiality  of  its  author 
I  should  be  inclined  to  award  the  work  to 
the  English  claimant,  for  what  is  a  flower 
of  history  but  a  phase  of  the  human  story 
which  especially  charms  the  writer. 

To  me  the  Gothic  cathedrals  are  the 
flowers  of  Thirteenth  Century  history, 
which  era  saw  every  one  of  the  greatest  of 
them  building.  Their  cornerstones  may 
have  been  laid  earlier,  and  the  finishing 
touches  came  much  later,  but  they  owe  their 
character  to  that  one  wonderful  century 
which  stands  apart  through  the  ages,  thus 
telling  its  beads. 

The  written  history  of  the  Thirteenth 
Century  is  cruel  reading,  but  an  age,  like  a 

[3] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

man,  has  two  soul  sides,  and  the  better  side 
is  always  the  harder  to  fathom.  The  Thir- 
teenth Century  opened  for  France,  the 
native  land  of  the  Gothic,  with  an  abom- 
inable pope,  a  selfish  king  and,  nearer  at 
hand,  the  evil  of  various  tyrannical  seig- 
neurs. The  great  social  movement  which 
endowed  the  French  towns  with  their  mag- 
nificent cathedrals  was  apart  from  those 
powers  and  hardly  affected  by  their  war 
or  peace. 

These  great  edifices  were  built  by  the 
secular  clergy  and  the  townspeople  for 
municipal,  as  well  as  religious,  purposes. 
Therein  they  held  councils  for  deliverance 
from  their  feudal  lords,  lay  and  ecclesiastic, 
for  in  the  Thirteenth  Century  the  Third 
Estate  became  a  political  power. 

The  cathedrals  express  the  patriotism, 
generosity  and  civic  pride  of  the  freemen  of 
the  old  towns;  they  realize  the  dream  of 
the  socialist  for  the  good  and  the  beautiful 
held  in  common ;  the  love  of  the  poet  for 
beauty  for  its  own  sweet  self;  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  artist,  working  at  the  white 
heat  of  a  rising  art,  as  surely  as  the  rever- 
ence of  the  age  of  faith. 

In  the  Low  Countries  they  built  city 
halls  at  an  early  date,  but  the  French  towns 

[4] 


The  Crucifix,  the  Eternal  Warning, 

Built  into  the  Very  Walls  of  the  Old  Courtroom 

in  the  Town  Hall  of  Rouen. 


The  Romantic  Thirteenth  Century 

did  not  need  them,  for  there  the  cathedrals 
lent  pomp  and  circumstance  to  all  muni- 
cipal assemblages.  The  first  States  Gen- 
eral was  held  in  Notre  Dame  of  Paris. 

The  early  Church  had  endeared  itself  to 
the  people  in  many  ways.  It  entertained 
the  traveler,  and  it  was  well  that  it  did,  for 
the  public  houses  were  of  a  very  low  or- 
der; it  instructed  the  children;  it  minis- 
tered to  the  sick,  and,  if  it  was  a  crazy 
physician,  it  was  a  gentle  nurse.  The 
modern  hospital,  the  fairest  monument  of 
humanity,  is  directly  descended  from  the 
old  Hotels-Dieu,  where  monks  and  nuns 
tended  the  sick.  In  the  cathedral  sat  the 
Bishops'  Courts  which,  the  people  felt, 
were  more  just  than  the  seigneurs.  From 
these  old  Bishops'  Courts  the  beautiful 
French  custom  has  descended  of  hanging 
a  crucifix  back  of  the  judge's  seat  in  the 
courts  of  common  law  where  the  symbol, 
recalling  a  politic  judge  washing  his  hands 
of  the  blood  of  a  just  man,  seems  more 
than  a  human  warning. 

Within  the  consecrated  walls  of  the 
church  was  that  ever-blessed  privilege  of 
the  temple  —  Christian,  Pagan,  or  Jew- 
ish—  sanctuary,  the  right  of  the  hunted. 
Of  course  it  was  abused,  mercy  expects  to 

[5] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

be;  therein  it  is  more  divine  than  human; 
but  in  a  lawless  day  sanctuary  was  an  un- 
conscious protest  against  lynching.  We 
do  read  of  accidents  arising  from  it;  a 
Christian  Church  at  Seez  was  burned  down 
in  an  attempt  to  dislodge  a  band  of  thieves, 
but  this  embarrassing  circumstance  reflects 
on  the  management  of  those  who  burned 
it  rather  than  upon  the  church. 

A  complaint  comes  down  to  us  from  the 
Thirteenth  Century  of  the  would-be  pop- 
ular clergy  who  allowed  their  parishioners 
to  dance  in  their  churches  and  even  assisted 
at  these  dances  and  at  shows  peu  convenable 
given  by  jugglers  and  clowns,  they  them- 
selves playing  at  chess,  all  of  which  goes 
to  show  that  we  must  regard  these  im- 
mense churches  as  meeting  houses  in  the 
literal  sense  of  the  term  and  allow  for  the 
coarseness  of  the  age  in  considering  its 
amusements.  Among  other  buffooneries, 
at  Laon  particularly,  which  seems  to  have 
been  very  "  low  church,"  we  read  of  the  an- 
nual fete  des  innocents^  in  which  the  choir 
boys  dressed  up  as  priests  and  went  through 
various  antics  in  the  church,  which  was 
given  up  to  them  for  the  night,  the  chap- 
ter giving  them  a  supper  after.  At  Laon 
again  there  is  public  complaint  of  a  change 

[6] 


The  Romantic  Thirteenth  Century 

having  been  made  in  the  hour  of  mass  and 
vespers  on  account  of  a  miracle  play  that 
was  given  in  the  church.  Lovers  of  the 
drama  may  look  leniently  upon  this  ar- 
rangement, whereas  I  suppose  the  stricter 
churchmen,  when  the  ecclesiastical  suprem- 
acy came  to  be  questioned,  even  in  the 
bishop's  own  church,  both  at  Rheims  and 
Laon,  said, "  I  told  you  so."  By  such  con- 
cessions the  clergy  induced  the  citizens  to 
go  in  with  them  in  building*  such  churches 
that  succeeding  generations  have  called 
them  mad. 

Though  the  evolution  of  the  Gothic  is 
one  of  the  most  interesting  chapters  in  the 
history  of  architecture,  the  history  of  the 
builders  themselves,  if  we  could  only  have 
it,  might  be  still  more  fascinating.  Indeed, 

"Who  builds  a  church  to  God  and  not  to  fame, 
Will  never  mark  the  marble  with  his  name." 

Hence  we  do  not  know  who  designed 
some  of  the  noblest  monuments  of  Gothic 
architecture,  but  we  do  catch  charming 
psychological  glimpses  as  we  watch  the 
mystical  and  the  practical  unconsciously 

*  The  Spaniards  of  Seville  formally  determined  to  build  a  cathe- 
dral upon  so  magnificent  a  scale  that  coming  ages  might  proclaim 
them  mad  to  have  undertaken  it. 

[7] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

working  together  for  the  beautiful  in  these 
old  cathedrals,  which  make  us  wonder  how 
such  spiritual  designs  arose  and  how  the 
artists  who  conceived  them  were  able  to 
carry  them  out.  How  could  an  age  when 
kings  could  hardly  read  and  write,  when 
artists  drew  like  children,  evolve  such 
works  of  art  ?  How  could  an  age  so  igno- 
rant of  physics  and  the  abstract  principles 
of  mechanics  erect  such  buildings  ? 

Some  hazy  legends,  fairy  tales  even, 
with  their  grain  of  truth  (that  truth  which 
one  troweth  but  cannot  prove),  and  a  few 
scant  records,  scattered  among  the  archives 
of  such  old  churches  as  have  escaped  the 
accidents  of  war  and  of  peace,  are  really 
all  that  is  left  us  with  which  to  picture  a 
beautiful  phase  of  thought  and  feeling 
which  lured  a  childish  people  onward  to- 
ward art,  organization  and  nationality. 

From  the  old  archives  of  Chartres, 
which  was  built  so  slowly,  from  the  old 
records  of  Saint  Denis,  which  was  built  so 
quickly,  between  the  lines  of  the  nai've  old 
letters  of  tactful  old  bishops  who  coaxed 
nobles  and  workmen  alike,  as  much  as 
they  coerced  them,  thereby  raising  fabu- 
lous sums  paid  in  labor  or  in  gold  with 
which  to  build  such  temples  that  succeed- 

[8] 


The  Middle  Ages  Dealt  Much 

in  Allegory.     The  Virgin  Greets  the  Angel 

of  Death. — A  Sermon  in  Marble. 


T/ie  Romantic  Thirteenth  Century 

ing  generations  have  thought  them  in- 
spired, we  may  pick  up  a  few  fragments 
of  the  untold  story  of  these  exquisitely 
poetic  Builders  who  taught  architecture 
to  speak  a  universal  language. 

Saint  Denis,  which  immediately  antedat- 
ed the  great  Gothic  churches  of  Northern 
France,  is  a  stately  mansion  with  a  steeple 
at  its  side,  but  the  Gothic  cathedrals  are 
Christian  temples  every  inch ;  their  design 
itself  is  consecrate.  Their  lines  and  har- 
monies however  varied,  however  bizarre, 
always  resolve  at  last  into  some  ideal  of 
reverence,while  their  solemn  beauty  speaks 
a  various  language.  From  crypt  to  steeple 
the  Gothic  church  is  a  Christian  metaphor. 
Its  ground  plan  is  the  Cross,  while  the 
huge  cathedral  with  all  its  worshipers  is 
but  a  standard  bearer  for  loftier  crosses 
borne  upon  its  towers  and  spires. 

From  the  bulwarks  of  their  massive 
foundations,  laid  in  the  Dark  Ages,  these 
old  churches  deliberately  grew  more  or- 
nate, carrying  with  them  countless  genera- 
tions of  architects  growing  steadily  in  pride 
and  skill  until  it  only  required  a  burst  of 
popular  enthusiasm  to  bring  forth  the 
artistic  revolution  of  the  Thirteenth  Cen- 
tury. Again  (but  not  in  wrath)  the  old 

[9] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

churches  were  demolished  simply  because 
they  were  no  longer  the  noblest  possible 
treasure  houses  for  their  precious  relics. 
Then  it  was  that  the  gentle,  mystical, 
French  monarch,  who  maintained  his  court 
so  simply,  purchased  "The  Crown  of 
Thorns"  from  the  mercenary  Venetians, 
into  whose  hands  it  had  fallen  through  a 
chattel  mortgage  given  by  those  who  had 
acquired  it  as  a  spoil  of  war. 

Never  were  the  rites  of  the  church  so 
descriptive,  so  picturesque,  so  splendid, 
as  in  the  Thirteenth  Century.  Barefooted 
and  in  penitential  garb,  but  followed  by  a 
band  of  light,  a  great  procession  of  wor- 
shipers, each  carrying  a  candle,  the  king 
and  his  brother  met  the  supreme  relic  and 
bore  it  tenderly  onward  to  the  Royal 
Chapel  in  Paris  and  all  the  cities,  towns 
and  hamlets  through  which  they  passed 
were  reverently  illuminated. 

Then  Saint  Louis  entreated  the  great 
architects  of  his  realm,  whose  genius  was 
already  proven,  to  strive  to  design  a  reli- 
quary even  worthy  of  the  Crown  of  Thorns, 
and  in  five  years  the  beautiful  Sainte 
Chapelle  arose :  like  other  poetry  this 
lovely  chapel  was  born  of  a  passionate 
yearning. 

[10] 


Sainte 

•which  Sprang  from  the  Crvwn 
of  Thornt. 


The  Romantic  Thirteenth  Century 

If  the  cathedrals  are  epics  of  architecture, 
the  Sainte  Chapelle  is  a  sonnet,  a  master- 
piece of  single-minded  expression,  the  pur- 
ity of  whose  design  established  a  standard. 
No  cathedral  could  be  finished  on  its  ori- 
ginal plan;  it  was  necessarily  too  long  in 
building;  but  the  model  which  was  to  har- 
monize the  labors  of  successive  builders 
may  be  sought  in  the  little  Sainte  Chapelle 
of  Paris  which  sprang  from  the  Crown  of 
Thorns. 

As  every  great  work  of  art  mirrors  a 
human  heart,  reflecting  that  of  which  its 
author  took  no  note  as  clearly  as  that  which 
stirred  his  conscious  being,  so  the  Sainte 
Chapelle  reflects  Saint  Louis  and  Saint 
Louis  reflects  the  Age  of  Faith.  He  was 
its  poet  who  wrote  in  deeds. 

It  is  not  strange  that  Louis  IX  was  can- 
onized for  he  was  in  perfect  accord  with 
the  ideals  of  his  age,  asceticism,  chivalry, 
humility  and  regality;  and  too,  he  was  a 
great  builder. 

Saint  Louis  built  the  Sainte  Chapelle  to 
hold  that  which  did  not  physically  exist; 
but  as  with  the  pen  of  a  recording  angel, 
on  this  tablet  of  stone  he  wrote  a  mes- 
sage from  the  better  self  of  his  age  to  all 
humanity. 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

Though  history  repeats,  the  history  of 
the  Gothic  is  as  unique  as  that  architecture 
itself;  when  otherwise  men  were  tram- 
meled body  and  soul  its  builders  were  free 
to  create,  to  vary  or  to  destroy. 

In  the  nineteenth  century,  when  travel 
became  general  ( "  he  who  runs  may  read  "  ), 
certain  gentle  readers  like  Corroyer,  Hugo, 
Rodin,  Ruskin,  and  most  accurate  of  all, 
Viollet-le-Duc,  interpreted  this  marvelous 
architecture  of  the  Moyen  Age  to  the 
multitude. 

"They  builded  better  than  they  knew; 
they  wrought  in  sad  sincerity,"  vaguely 
exclaimed  the  philosopher. 

"They  built  as  well  as  they  knew;  they 
built  in  glad  sincerity,"  observed  the  archi- 
tect. 

Rodin  reminds  us  that  it  is  a  mistake  to 
imagine  that  the  religious  conceptions  of 
that  day  were  able  to  bring  forth  architec- 
tural masterpieces  any  more  than  that  the 
religious  conceptions  of  today  are  respon- 
sible for  the  defects  in  modern  structures. 

The  Gothic  cathedrals  are  epics  of  labor. 
They  grew  up  under  the  hands  of  many 
designers  and  builders,  who  were  learn- 
ing as  they  worked.  Democracy  echoes 
through  these  noble  buildings  into  which 

[i.a] 


Interior  of  Sainte  Chapelle. 

"  Much  more  than  the  ogive,  the  grotto,  the  cavern, 

the  -window,  is  the  essential  of  Gothic 

architc&ure." —  August  Rodin. 


The  Romantic  Thirteenth  Century 

were  wrought  the  hope,  the  promise  and 
the  enthusiasm  of  a  rising  people. 

To  the  inartistic  eighteenth  century, 
whose  mission  was  to  fight  tyranny,  polit- 
ical and  religious,  these  ornate  structures 
seemed  the  meaningless  labor  of  a  down- 
trodden people.  I  doubt  if  logicians  like 
Voltaire  and  Gibbon  realized  the  elevating 
joy  of  passionate  giving  that  came  to  some 
of  the  poorest  donors.  Think  of  a  guild 
of  pastry  cooks  presenting  a  magnificent 
window  to  the  Church,  their  Mother !  No 
less  a  building  than  the  Cathedral  of  Char- 
tres! 

Never  were  the  lovely  things  of  the  Age 
of  Faith  more  beloved  than  in  the  present 
Age  of  Doubt.  We  are  trying  to  restore 
the  noblest  of  the  old  cathedrals,  stone  for 
stone,  and  to  lure  back  the  sweetest  prayers 
and  truest  penance  confided  to  their  walls 
to  spiritualize  their  resurrection. 

Never  were  the  maiden  efforts  of  Chris- 
tian art  more  tenderly  approached  than  in 
the  technical  twentieth  century,  when  they 
are  studied  alike  by  Catholic,  Protestant 
and  Jew.  The  old  theology  has  been  very 
severely  picked  over,  but  underneath  its 
mouldy  leaves,  like  trailing  arbutus  in  the 
spring,  the  "  Little  Flowers  of  St.  Francis  " 

[13] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

peep  up.  The  nineteenth  century  con- 
cerned itself  with  the  errors  of  the  Med- 
iaeval Church,  but  the  twentieth  especially 
reads  the  gentler  side  related  by  the  artists, 
and  sometimes  we  catch  hallowed  messages 
from  the  pure  in  heart  who  have  almost 
seen  God. 


[H] 


Mystics  as  Builders 

WE  ORDER  the  temples  still  standing 
destroyed  that  in  their  exact  place 
may  be  raised  the  sign  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. Decree  of  Valentinian  III. 

In  the  tribunal  of  history  the  Christian 
iconoclasts  have  been  dealt  with  somewhat 
in  the  manner  of  defendants  in  damage 
suits.  If  a  cow  is  killed  by  a  railroad,  is 
it  not  naturally  assumed  to  have  been  a 
Durham?  If  a  statue  was  destroyed  by  a 
fanatic  why  not  put  in  a  claim  for  a  Phidias  ? 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  by  the  time  the  early 
Christians  came  into  power  the  art  of  the 
day  of  Pericles  had  been  copied  for  over 
seven  hundred  years.  Of  art,  what  worse 
could  be  said! 

Grecian  art  neither  rose  nor  fell  in  a 
generation  nor  was  it  childless;  original, 
though  minor  schools,  Hellenic  to  the 
core,  sprang  up  in  the  Grecian  colonies  and 
to  the  end  the  art  and  artists  of  Rome 
were  Greeks.  But  during  the  later  Ro- 
man Empire  the  degenerate  Grecian  artist 

['5] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

commissioned  by  the  degenerate  Roman 
patron  was  simply  cumbering  the  earth. 
Oh,  yes,  in  those  luxurious  days  they  pat- 
ronized art  as  rich  men  should,  as  rich 
men  do.  The  houses  of  Herculaneum  and 
Pompeii  teemed  with  articles  of  virtu.  It 
was  not  statues  the  world  of  art  needed, 
it  was  ideals. 

In  art,  it  is  the  individual  point  of  view 
that  counts  even  if  it  be  only  that  of  the 
destroyer.  Since  art  reflects  life  and  life 
means  change,  the  iconoclast  has  his  place. 
A  race,  or  more  often  the  meeting  of  two 
races,  may  develop  a  school  of  art;  it 
reaches  its  perfection  in  the  work  of  a  few 
genii  of  its  golden  age;  to  them  it  is  given 
to  embody  the  highest  and  best  that  was 
in  the  myriad  of  artists  who  have  taught 
them  and  their  teachers.  Spellbound  by 
its  own  perfection,  this  art  can  move  no 
farther.  The  multitude  seek  to  preserve 
it,  for  its  value  has  been  interpreted  to 
them  in  quotations  of  the  exchange.  Art- 
ists are  satisfied  to  copy  it,  and  thereby 
artists  they  gradually  cease  to  be.  The  de- 
stroyer comes, —  fire,  fanatic,  whirlwind, 
victor  or  worm  —  the  bulk  and  body  of 
that  art  perishes,  but  the  ideal,  being  a 
fruit  of  the  spirit,  lives.  The  final  ruling 

[16] 


Mystics  as  Builders 

of  Grecian  architecture  is  still  proclaimed 
from  the  Parthenon,  while  headless  and 
armless  the  lone  "  Winged  Victory  "  might 
immortalize  the  action  of  Grecian  sculp- 
ture, the  poetry  of  Grecian  thought. 

Since  architecture  is  the  most  national 
of  the  arts,  its  movements  are  the  easiest 
to  trace.  Sometimes  we  actually  detect  the 
designer  following  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
iconoclast.  Indeed,  the  most  successful  pa- 
tron architecture  has  known,  the  Catholic 
Church,  commenced  as  a  destroyer. 

In  the  south  of  France  ecclesiastical  ar- 
chitecture remained  essentially  classic  until 
the  Renaissance.  This  was  largely  due  to 
one  great  sixth  century  bishop,  Patiens  de 
Lyons,  who  repaired  the  old  temples  and 
rebuilt  anew  on  their  lines  so  successfully 
that  the  people  proudly  said  they  could 
not  tell  the  new  from  the  old;  but  in  the 
north  of  Gaul,  where  Martin  of  Tours  and 
his  followers  had  made  a  clean  sweep  of 
the  pagan  temples  and  their  old  influence, 
architectural  and  spiritual,  an  absolutely 
new  style  of  church  building  developed. 
It  is  there  that  to  this  day  we  turn  for  the 
purest  Gothic. 

Of  this  Martin  we  have  some  little  his- 
tory, hazy  though  it  be.  He  was  a  rude 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

barbarian  of  the  Roman  legion,  under  the 
Emperor  Julian,  who  embraced  Christian- 
ity and  brought  the  glad  tidings  to  Tours. 
With  a  soldier's  idea  of  conquest  he  de- 
molished the  temples  of  false  gods,  like 
other  superstitious  converts;  but  he  con- 
tended that  to  make  the  victory  complete, 
at  least  an  altar  to  the  true  God  should 
mark  the  very  spot;  and  he  is  credited 
with  six  religious  foundations,  one  having 
been  a  church  for  the  laity  in  the  town  of 
Tours.  The  present  age  might  canonize 
Martin  for  a  deed  overlooked  by  his  most 
ardent,  early  eulogists.  He  and  Saint  Am- 
brose protested  against  the  "  new  heresy  " 
of  two  Spanish  bishops  who  put  a  gnostic 
to  death  for  his  heretical  opinions. 

Hagiology,  however,  abounds  in  records 
of  Saint  Martin,  for  he  became  the  best  be- 
loved saint  of  old  Gaul. 

It  is  natural  that  those  who  read  the 
Roman  Catholic  breviary  literally  should 
doubt  it  somewhat.  They  fail  to  realize 
that  the  history  of  a  saint  lies  entirely  be- 
tween the  lines  of  the  account.  The  sacred 
lesson  taught  by  this  life  reechoes  in  his 
antiphones,  responses,  versicles  and  les- 
sons, until  he  stands  before  his  followers 
as  a  type  of  certain  virtues.  Thus  Saint 

[.8] 


Mystics  as  Builders 

Sebastian  stands  for  Christian  courage; 
though  his  body  is  pierced  with  arrows 
and  his  hands  are  tied,  he  is  always  repre- 
sented looking  bravely  up  to  Heaven : 
torture  is  immaterial  to  him :  he  is  sus- 
tained by  faith.  Saint  Gregory,  gentlest  of 
pastors,  greatest  of  popes,  is  represented 
with  the  emblem  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
dove,  perched  upon  his  shoulder;  Saint 
Jerome,  who  translated  the  Scriptures,  with 
the  Book  in  his  hand ;  he  generally  has  an 
angel  near-by  him. 

Two  little  pictures  stand  out  in  Saint 
Martin's  iconography.  In  one,  Saint  Mar- 
tin cuts  his  cloak  in  half  with  his  sword  to 
divide  it  with  a  beggar  and  beholds  the 
Savior  abundantly  clad  in  half  of  it ;  and 
in  the  other,  Saint  Martin  evokes  the 
spectre  of  a  pretended  martyr  worshiped 
in  Tours,  who  comes  to  life  and  admits 
that  he  was  hanged  for  crime,  wherefore 
Saint  Martin  demolishes  his  shrine. 

To  the  early  Church  the  relic  was  every- 
thing. Of  course  it  should  be  pure  and 
holy.  In  it  there  was  inspiration.  Above 
the  grave  of  some  dear  saint  or,  perhaps, 
only  to  his  memory,  a  shrine  would  arise, 
and  from  these  shrines,  like  flowers  from 
seed,  churches  grew.  A  crypt  might  be 

[19] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

made  to  hold  some  hallowed  dust,  where 
services  might  be  held.  This  was  reminis- 
cent of  the  Roman  catacombs  where  the 
first  Christians,  believing  literally  in  the 
resurrection  of  the  body,  had  laid  their 
dead,  and  where,  unseen  by  the  unsympa- 
thetic world,  they  had  met  for  holy  com- 
munion. The  crypts  of  the  early  Church 
were  the  mortal  resting-places  of  friendly 
immortals  at  the  great  court  above  who,  in 
their  robes  of  light,  might  plead  acceptably 
for  those  who  would  so  reverently  approach 
the  heavenly  throne  through  spirits  purer 
than  their  own.  Of  course,  these  pleaders 
must  be  very  pure  to  turn  their  shrines  to 
altars.  What  spiritual  value  had  a  pretty, 
paltry  tomb  honoring  an  unholy  spirit  ? 

Roman  civilization  was  materialistic,  but 
not  so  this  new  religion  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth. Now,  if  things  holy  could  pervade  and 
hallow  a  building,  why  should  not  things 
unholy  defile  it? 

We  may  trace  this  idea  carried  out  so 
literally,  so  picturesquely,  so  almost  logi- 
cally in  the  legends  of  Martin  of  Tours, 
that  we  actually  sympathize  with  the  de- 
structive old  bishop.  Blindly  defending  the 
dream  that  was  in  him,  he  actually  stands 
first  in  that  long  line  of  ecclesiastical  build- 

[20] 


Saint  Martin  Dividing  Hit  Coat, 
from  an  Old  Antifhont. 


Mystics  as  Builders 

ers  who,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  jointly 
brought  forth  Gothic  architecture. 

When  Saint  Martin  put  his  rude  fol- 
lowers to  work  building  houses  for  their 
new  faith  he  must  have  established  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  unity  and  order  among 
them.  Could  there  have  been  a  better  way 
to  attach  his  crude  converts  to  their  Church 
than  to  induce  them  to  work  upon  it? 

While  Saint  Martin  was  building  at 
Tours,  the  Dark  Ages  were  setting  in,  when 
men  of  action  became  marauders,  preying 
upon  others ;  men  of  thought  became 
monks,  praying  for  themselves ;  humanity 
went  backwards,  and  history  ceased  from 
very  shame.  But  through  it  all  there  were 
a  few  perplexed  old  bishops  who,  whatever 
their  failings  may  have  been,  tried  to  do 
something  for  their  fellows.  However,  in 
that  lawless  day,  they  had  to  defend  rather 
than  expand  Christianity,  and  even  protect 
its  churches,  for  pagans,  too,  might  be 
honest  iconoclasts ! 

The  best  thing  the  Dark  Ages  did  for 
civilization  was  to  learn  the  builders'  trade 
and  teach  it  to  a  great  many  people.  It  was 
a  general  service,  for  to  make  a  people  in- 
dustrious is,  sooner  or  later,  to  make  them 
skilful  and  law-abiding. 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

It  is  curious  that  Saint  Martin  who,  even 
while  he  was  a  bishop,  lodged  in  a  hut 
covered  with  boughs,  should  head  the  great 
line  of  builders  who  jointly  and  severally 
developed  French  Gothic.  In  standing  for 
the  integrity  of  the  relic,  which  was  literally 
the  seed  of  early  Christian  art,  Saint  Martin 
gave  a  new  and  a  higher  impetus  to  life, 
and  with  it,  very  indirectly,  to  art.  Seventy 
years  after  Martin's  death,  to  his  blessed 
memory  Saint  Perpetuas  built  "  the  most 
beautiful  church  in  existence,"  at  least  so 
Gregory  of  Tours  affirms.  We  will  not  in- 
quire on  what  lines,  for  this  was  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Dark  Ages,  when  nothing 
beautiful  was  made. 

A  supreme  recognition  of  the  bold  old 
iconoclast  comes  to  us  from  devotees  of  the 
classic;  from  certain  artists  and  connoisseurs 
of  the  Renaissance.  This  unexpected  trib- 
ute to  iconoclasm  is  published  upon  a  mon- 
ument far  removed  from  old  Gaul  in  time 
and  place,  in  ideal  and  execution. 

In  a  monastery  dowered  with  the  gold  of 
two  reigning  dynasties  of  tyrants,  dowered 
by  the  genius  of  two  reigning  dynasties 
of  painters  and  sculptors,  amid  surround- 
ings perhaps  the  richest  in  the  world, 
where  fifty  monks  might  dream  away  their 


From  the  Certosa  of  Pa-via. 

One  of  the  Most  Elaborate  Monuments 

of  Catholicism, 


Mystics  as  Builders 

lives  in  silence,  in  that  lordly  and  exclu- 
sive playhouse  for  the  soul  of  the  Renais- 
sance, wherein  the  exuberance  of  the  Gothic 
takes  on  the  maturity  of  the  Renaissance 
in  an  elaboration  which  for  once  does  not 
cloy, —  in  the  Certosa  di  Pavia  we  find  a 
tribute  to  crude,  old  Saint  Martin,  the 
iconoclast. 

On  a  mural  of  one  of  the  side  chapels  of 
this  Certosa  behold  him  represented  in  the 
garb  of  a  fifteenth  century  monk,  with  his 
sanctity  emphasized  by  a  large,  glittering 
nimbus,  to  which  the  aerial  perspective  of 
the  otherwise  maturely  realistic  painting 
is  deliberately  sacrificed,  calmly  superin- 
tending a  gilded  youth  of  the  Renaissance 
while  he  smashes  a  fine  Grecian  statue ! 
How  did  this  rude  act  find  endorsement 
in  a  temple  of  art?  How  did  the  coarsest 
of  the  saints  win  a  place  in  the  heart  of 
the  Renaissance?  Was  it  because  in  him 
they  saw  a  reflection  of  the  subtlest  hon- 
esty of  Art,  that  god  of  the  Renaissance? 
Was  it  because,  above  all  else,  Saint  Mar- 
tin especially  stood  for  the  integrity  of  the 
ideal  ? 

Though  this  little  scene  on  the  chapel 
wall  may  have  been  simply  historic  in  its 
import,  nothing  is  plainer  than  that  the 

[23] 


Flowers  From  Medi<x*val  History 

picture  is  intended  to  honor  an  uncom- 
promising, bishop  of  the  early  Church. 

Through  the  confusion  that  disinte- 
grated empire,  Saint  Martin  was  a  rude 
standard-bearer  of  two  ideals  broad  enough 
to  rebuild  nations — Sincerity  and  Brother- 
hood. "First  he  wrought  and  after  that 
he  taught" — and  first  the  spirit  of  his 
teaching  was  put  into  rude  pictures,  be- 
cause in  Gaul  so  few  people  could  read 
and  still  fewer  could  condense  an  idea  into 
forceful  words. 

It  was  long,  long  after  an  angel  had  ap- 
peared and  carried  Saint  Martin's  soul  in 
the  form  of  a  child  straight  to  God,  as  a 
gentle  old  writer  attests,  that  a  modern 
geologist  voiced  the  fundamental  idea  of 
the  best  beloved  saint  of  old  Gaul,  "An 
honest  god  is  the  noblest  work  of  man." 

But  the  past,  as  well  as  the  present,  has 
its  peculiar  eloquence  wherewith  to  honor 
the  dead.  Over  one  of  the  oldest  Chris- 
tian altars  spared  to  us  by  time,  in  solemn, 
enduring  mosaic,  big  and  simple,  stands 
Saint  Martin  leading  a  line  of  saints  to 
Christ.  And  this  great  hieratic  on  the  wall 
of  an  old  church  of  old  Ravenna  describes, 
as  no  language  of  the  present  may,  an 
early  builder  of  the  great  mystic  Church 

[•*] 


The  Last  Resting  Place  of 

the  Great  Poet  of  Meditt-valhm —  Tomb 

of  Dante,  Ravenna. 


Mystics  as  Builders 

which  "rests  upon  the  brawny  trunks  of 
heroes  .  .  .  whose  spans  and  arches  are  the 
joined  hands  of  comrades  .  .  .  and  whose 
heights  and  spaces  are  inscribed  by  the 
numberless  musings  of  all  the  dreamers  of 
the  world." 


The  Golden  Madonna 
of  Rheims 

EPE  in  the  fifth  century,  while  the  con- 
fusion of  the  Dark  Ages  reigned  su- 
preme, the  Christian  bishop  of  the  Remi 
was  at  work  on  the  discouraging  task  of 
rebuilding  his  church  after  pagan  depreda- 
tions at  Rheims,  when  the  great  joy  was 
vouchsafed  to  him  of  baptizing  Clovis,  the 
ruler  of  the  largest  Teutonic  State  of  the 
age.  _ 

Saint  Remi  recommended  Clovis  to  adore 
that  which  he  had  burned  and  to  burn  that 
which  he  had  adored,  that  the  work  of  ju- 
dicious destruction  might  continue.  Clovis 
sent  offerings  to  all  the  sanctuaries,  particu- 
larly to  that  of  the  old  soldier  Saint  Mar- 
tin. Three  thousand  Franks  were  baptized; 
Clovis  exchanged  the  three  toads  on  his 
shield  for  the  fleur-de-lis,  and  France  be- 
came Christian  toute  de  suite.  Then  Saint 
Remi  dreamt  of  great  things  yet  to  come: 
of  a  king  and  a  people  governed  by  the 


!?•  3-  o'  &  ^ 

5    P    a    3    ?L 


The  Golden  Madonna  of  Rheims 

Church  of  Christ,  temporally  and  spirit- 
ually. And  he  interpreted  this  dream  to 
the  people  by  a  charming  symbol:  he  ex- 
plained how  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Heavenly 
Dove,  had  brought  from  above  some  spir- 
itual oil  with  which  to  anoint  Clovis  at  his 
baptism.  But  to  make  the  idea  clear  to 
these  many  men  of  childish  minds  and 
many  patois,  he  showed  them  a  little  am- 
pulla filled  with  oil,  which,  he  explained, 
"the  Dove"  had  brought  to  him  from 
Heaven  to  grace  the  baptism  of  their  chief. 
And  they  decided  to  keep  the  oil  that  was 
left  in  the  ampulla  for  great  occasions, 
like  coronations.  This  wonderful  ointment 
united  the  Crown  and  the  Church  as  long 
as  it  lasted.  During  the  Revolution  a  sans- 
culotte shattered  the  old  vessel.  Orthodoxy 
claimed  to  have  caught  one  drop  and  en- 
cased it  in  a  beautiful  new  vase ;  it  was  used 
again,  but  its  efficacy  was  no  more.  And 
not  long  thereafter  the  French  people  de- 
cided to  do  without  coronations,  or  monas- 
teries, but  they  still  love  Clovis  and  Saint 
Remi. 

Civilization  is  much  indebted  to  the 
early  bishops  and  a  goodly  number  of  them 
have  been  canonized.  The  monastic  clergy 
were  the  snobs  of  the  Church,  securely 


Flowers  From  Mediezval  History 

selfish  in  the  magnificent  fastnesses  they 
creeled  for  themselves  in  the  skies;  con- 
descending comfortably  to  pray  for  those 
that  fed  them  (though  who  knows  but  they 
even  shirked  that  obligation),  while  the 
secular  clergy  were  working  out,  amid  in- 
spiration and  error,  the  foundations  of  a 
Christian  civilization.  The  idea  of  the 
early  bishops  that  the  Church  ought  to 
rule  the  world  was  a  natural  and  an  hon- 
est mistake.  The  later  bishops  were  quite 
a  different  class.  The  stout  little  church 
of  Saint  Remi  near  Rheims  pleads  still  for 
its  brave  old  bishop,  though  as  a  building 
it  is  eclipsed  by  the  great  cathedral  of  the 
city. 

The  dynasty  of  Clovis  passed  away  and 
the  next  reigning  house  came  in  with  Pep- 
in.  He  had  good  reason  to  approve  of  the 
Church  as  an  institution,  for  it  had  early 
played  into  his  hand.  Had  not  the  Abbe 
of  Saint  Denis  journeyed  to  Rome  to  se- 
cure the  papal  confirmation  of  his  crown  ? 
And  had  not  Pope  Stephen,  while  enjoying 
the  prote6tion  of  that  same  abbey,  anointed 
Charlemagne,  his  little  son  ?  On  this  was 
based  the  succession.  With  his  own  good 
sword  Charlemagne  defended  it  and  brought 
a  semblance  of  order  to  the  land  of  the 

[28] 


The  Golden  Madonna  of  Rheims 

Gaul  and  the  Frank;  and,  genius  that  he 
was,  he  anticipated,  in  his  interest  in  archi- 
tecture, the  genius  of  his  great  people. 
But  it  was  rather  Charlemagne's  attitude 
toward  church  building  and  letters  that  told, 
in  the  long  run,  than  any  literal  achieve- 
ment in  them  during  this  time.  However, 
from  the  reign  of  his  youngest  son,  Louis 
the  Pious,  we  may  trace  the  steady,  con- 
sistent growth  of  an  original  order  of  build- 
ing which  culminated  in  the  unparalleled 
Gothic  of  Northern  France. 

By  that  time  the  nobility  had  built  so 
many  sanctuaries  in  their  domains  that  they 
had  to  be  interdicted  from  establishing  use- 
less private  foundations  and,  in  a  more 
democratic  spirit,  sixteen  or  seventeen 
churches,  all  edifices  of  dignity,  were  begun. 
Then  Bishop  Ebbon  saw  a  golden  oppor- 
tunity to  build  a  magnificent  cathedral  on 
the  long-hallowed  soil  of  Rheims.  There 
the  Druid  had  raised  his  altar,  there  the 
Roman  his  temple,  which  may  have  ab- 
sorbed the  old  Druid's  stones  into  its  walls 
as  it  had  his  old  gods  into  its  adaptive 
bosom,  to  fall,  in  its  turn,  a  mightier  pile, 
from  which  the  Christian  built  again  and 
again  as  he  grew  in  skill.  Indeed,  beyond 
their  generation  the  people  of  Rheims  were 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

experienced  builders.  In  addition  to  all  the 
stone  quarried  by  varied  wors-hipers  of  the 
long  past  at  Rheims,  Louis  the  Pious  put 
at  Ebbon's  service  the  materials  of  the  city 
wall  and  sent  him  his  favorite  architect — 
Rumald.  And  it  was  found  that  the  new 
cathedral  protected  the  city  better  than  the 
old  walls.  La  paix  religieuse  turned  away 
many  an  invader.  One  golden  cup  from 
the  altar  bought  off  the  Norsemen  (not 
that  it  turned  their  hearts) ;  they  swooped 
down  upon  Chartres  instead. 

The  old  chroniclers  assure  us  that  this 
early  Cathedral  of  Rheims  was  the  finest 
in  the  realm.  It  must  have  beggared  de- 
scription, for  what  manner  of  building  it 
was  none  of  them  seem  to  say.  But  they 
tell  of  its  wonderful  altar  of  Our  Lady, 
covered  with  gold  and  studded  with  gems, 
upon  which  stood  a  glorious  virgin  made 
of  solid  gold.  That  impressed  them.  Was 
this  altar  built  with  the  loot  of  war?  Was 
it  built  in  remorse,  or,  worse,  in  mercenary 
superstition  ?  Or  was  it  lavished  like  the 
woman's  precious  ointment  upon  our  Sa- 
vior? This  much  it  certainly  was, —  a 
united  tribute  of  the  material  to  the  imma- 
terial, coming  from  many  men  of  many 
minds. 


The  Golden  Madonna  of  Rheims 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  Virgin 
became  so  peculiarly  near  and  dear  to 
the  Catholic  world.  They  loaded  her  with 
jewels  and  appealed  to  her  as  one  of  them- 
selves, human,  though  divinely  so.  They 
painted  her  on  the  inside  of  their  jewel 
boxes  that  she  might  turn  the  heart  of  the 
thief;  they  appealed  to  her  in  embarrass- 
ing human  situations  and  loved  her  as  a 
helpful,  pitying  woman  who  brought  re- 
ligion home  to  them. 

In  due  time  this  golden  Virgin  of  Rheims, 
so  imposing,  so  splendid  to  her  rude  wor- 
shipers, gently  made  way  for  a  line  of  ten- 
derer virgins  who  were  gradually  infusing 
sweetness  and  skill  into  those  who  sought  to 
spiritualize  wood  and  stone  into  a  sugges- 
tion of  the  mother  of  Christ.  When  the 
old  ninth  century  church  at  Rheims  was 
burned  it  is  supposed  that  the  barbarians' 
gold  was  minted  to  rebuild  the  cathedral. 
Or  shall  we  say  that,  purified  by  fire,  the 
golden  Virgin  arose  again  and  again  from 
her  ashes  to  rebuild  her  shrine  in  maturer 
beauty  ? 

After  many  fires,  in  1212  the  present 
Cathedral  of  Rheims  was  commenced  upon 
the  old,  old  crypt;  before  the  middle  of 
the  century  the  main  body  of  the  church 

[31] 


Flowers  From  Mediteva!  History 

was  complete,  and  once  again  the  Cathedral 
of  Rheims  was  the  finest  in  the  realm !  In 
1903  a  vote  was  taken  for  the  noblest 
Gothic  monument,  and  the  returns,  as  al- 
ways before,  were,  "the  Cathedral  of 
Rheims." 

Through  the  Dark  Ages  the  people  of 
Rheims  had  not  built  in  vain.  Effort  after 
effort  was  destroyed,  it  is  true,  but  like  the 
golden  virgin  it  was  minted  to  rebuild 
anew. 

Lacking  the  mathematical  knowledge, 
which  is  the  mainstay  of  the  modern  archi- 
tect, these  early  builders  must  have  learned 
empirically,  that  is,  in  the  school  of  de- 
feat—  but,  too,  there  are  triumphs  there. 
Did  the  idea  of  the  beautiful  flying  but- 
tress (which  is  simply  a  constructive  device 
to  strengthen  walls  pierced  by  enormous 
windows)  come  suddenly  to  some  baffled 
old  architect,  as  from  the  lips  of  an  angel, 
in  answer  to  work  and  prayer  ?  These  old 
builders  of  Rheims  leave  us  no  written 
word,  but  there  is  a  great  Florentine  archi- 
tect who  is  a  little  more  communicative; 
he  leaves  a  discreet  hint  or  two  of  his 
method  of  reasoning  and  also  of  securing 
contracts.  Regarding  the  construction  of 
the  projected  dome  of  the  Cathedral  of 


Did  the  Idea  of  that  Beautiful 

Strufiural  Device,  the  Flying  Buttress,  Come,  Like  an 

Angel  Vision,  to  Some  Baffled  ArchiteSl  in 

Answer  to  Work  and  Prayer? 


'The  Golden  Madonna  of '  Rheims 

Santa  Maria  del  Fiore,  which  the  public 
regarded  as  impracticable,  Brunelleschi 
writes:  "Yet,  remembering  that  this  is  a 
temple  consecrated  to  God  and  the  Virgin, 
I  confidently  trust  that  for  a  work  exe- 
cuted in  their  honor,  they  will  not  fail  to 
infuse  knowledge  where  it  is  wanting  and 
will  bestow  strength,  wisdom  and  genius 
on  him  who  shall  be  the  author  of  such  a 
project.  But  how  can  I  help  you,  seeing 
that  the  work  is  not  mine?  I  tell  you 
plainly  that,  if  it  belonged  to  me,  my  cour- 
age and  power  would,  beyond  all  doubt, 
suffice  to  discover  means  whereby  the  work 
might  be  effected  without  so  many  diffi- 
culties, but  as  yet  I  have  not  reflected  on 
the  matter  to  any  extent."  And  when  he 
got  the  contract  and  reflected,  he  turned  to 
the  "parent  past" — he  went  to  Rome, 
where  the  vaulting  of  the  Parthenon  taught 
him  to  vault  that  lovelier  Florentine  dome 
which  "clasps  the  ancient  to  the  modern 
world." 

The  builders  of  the  Gothic  were  in  some 
ways  more  original  than  the  builders  of  the 
Renaissance;  they  evolved  their  own  brac- 
ing; thus  gradually  at  Rheims,  the  "Athens 
of  the  Middle  Ages,"  a  great  cathedral 
grew  up  that  ranks  with  the  Parthenon. 

[33] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

The  Greek  had  the  subtlest  of  languages 
in  which  to  speak  of  the  good  and  the 
beautiful,  while  where  the  greatest  Gothic 
churches  were  designed  there  was  only  a 
corrupt  dead  language  and  a  partially  de- 
veloped living  one;  but  the  subtle  poets 
of  Chartres,  Rheims,  Amiens,  Rouen, 
Bourges  and  Laon  built  strongly  into  their 
cathedrals  the  sweetest  things  they  had  to 
say.  When  the  Parthenon  was  constructed 
Athens  was  so  wealthy  that  it  was  one  of 
the  glories  of  Pericles  that  he  was  able  to 
spend  so  much  so  well  upon  the  greatest 
capital  in  the  world.  Rheims  was  simply, 
as  the  Middle  Ages  went,  a  rich  see,  and 
the  Middle  Ages  were  wretchedly  poor, 
yet  her  cathedral  is  the  more  elaborate 
building  of  the  two.  To  the  end  of  time  it 
is  a  monument  of  civic  and  religious  en- 
thusiasm ;  and,  as  we  seek  the  human  story, 
so  elusively  suggested  through  the  mar- 
velous pile,  we  realize  at  least  how  great 
a  thing  it  is  for  each  worker  to  give,  in 
perfect  self-effacement,  of  his  best.  The 
decorations  of  the  mighty  temple  are  so 
exquisitely  subservient  to  the  great  whole 
that  the  handiwork  of  the  gifted  imagier, 
with  that  of  his  weaker  brother,  the  one 
serving  as  a  foil  to  the  other,  holds  to- 

[34] 


The  Sculptured  Saint  Upon  a 

Gothic  Cathedral  Fills  His  Place  in  the  Long,  Narrow 

Niche,  Annihilating  Himself  for  the  Great 

Church,  as  a  Devotee  Should. 


The  Golden  Madonna  of  Rheims 

gether  like  their  prayers  in  the  noble 
harmony  of  the  great  church.  Gothic 
sculpture  is  for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men,  but  least  of  all  for  artists.  It  speaks 
its  simple  lesson  distinctly.  It  is  not  sculp- 
ture for  sculpture's  sake,  but  rather  for 
decoration  and  lyric  expression.  Its  ema- 
ciated saint  betokens  sacrifice ;  literally  and 
figuratively  he  fills  his  place  in  the  long, 
narrow  niche,  annihilating  himself  for  the 
great  church  as  a  Catholic  priest  should. 

Would  you  know  how  the  Gothic  affects 
a  sculptor  ? 

Says  August  Rodin:  "  Life  is  made  up 
of  strength  and  grace ;  the  Gothic  gives  us 
this;  its  influence  has  entered  into  my 
blood  and  grown  into  my  being." 

Nowadays,  when  all "  the  world  travels," 
schools  of  art  do  not  grow  up  in  little  com- 
munities; intellectual  boundaries  are  in  no 
way  geographic,  and  the  moral  effect  of 
one  man  on  another  is  hidden  from  view. 
But  on  the  walls  of  the  old  mediaeval 
churches  a  simpler  people,  as  their  work 
improved,  show  their  direct  obligations  to 
one  another. 

The  Gothic  cathedrals  which  served 
as  Bibles  for  the  laity  (who,  as  a  rule, 
could  not  read  print)  are  now  the  most 

[35] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

veracious  chronicles  of  the  period  that 
we  possess.  Their  statements  cannot  be 
gainsaid,  however  variously  they  may  be 
understood.  If  some  of  the  last  judgments 
sculptured  on  their  walls,  with  half  of 
the  figures  marching  toward  heaven  and 
the  other  half  (very  similar  in  appearance) 
moving  serenely  toward  hell,  are  rather 
too  didactic  for  this  age  of  doubt,  between 
the  lines  of  these  great  stone  volumes  a 
gentle  reader  finds  countless  beautiful 
stories,  much  more  convincingly  told,  of 
artists  and  artisans  working  away  with 
smiles  on  their  faces,  carving  Bible  stories 
under  the  direction  of  the  clergy ;  devising 
figures  to  personify  the  virtues  and  vices; 
inserting  little  angels  here  and  there  to  fill 
out  the  design,  while  the  best  artist  is  re- 
warded with  the  sweet  honor  of  carving 
the  Madonna. 

The  barbarian's  gold  pays  interest  yet ; 
the  spirit  of  the  bequest  is  not  changed;  — 
a  united  tribute  of  the  material  to  the 
spiritual  coming  from  many  men  of  many 
minds.  The  old  golden  Madonna  is  pa- 
troness still  of  the  five  thousand  statues 
of  the  Cathedral  of  Rheims,  whose  mute 
lips  speak  so  various  a  language.  They 
tell  of  a  day  that  is  dead  and  of  a  day  that 

[36] ' 


The  Golden  Madonna  of  Rheims 

is  eternal ;  they  speak  of  substance  and  of 
spirit;  of  error  and  of  intuition;  of  things 
human  and  of  things  divine.  Indeed, 

"  Of  every  work  of  art  the  silent  part 

is  best, 

Of  all  expression,  that  which  cannot 
be  expressed." 


[37] 


E 


The  Little  Old 

Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the 

Imagiers 

ARLY  in  the  twelfth  century,  within  the 
hospitable  walls  of  the  old  Abbey  of 
Saint  Denis,  a  prince  and  a  charity  child 
grew  up  together;  there  a  love,  almost  ro- 
mantic, developed  between  them.  When 
the  prince  became  king  and  embarked  up- 
on a  crusade  he  left  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment in  the  hands  of  his  old  comrade,  who 
in  the  meantime  had  become  the  Abbe  of 
Saint  Denis  and  was,  incidentally,  one  of 
the  cleverest  of  politicians.  Suger  paid  the 
royal  debts  (democratic  good  pay  seems 
to  have  been  an  ideal  with  him),  and  called 
the  realm  to  order  so  successfully  that 
statesmen  came  from  afar  to  study  his  very 
novel  methods,  for  the  crusades  had  set  the 
people  traveling.  On  his  return  the  king 
graciously  greeted  his  regent  as  "father  of 
his  country."  Suger,  not  to  be  outdone, 
instituted  a  somewhat  legendary  liturgy  to 

[38] 


Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the  Imagiers 

be  celebrated  annually  at  Saint  Denis  com- 
memorating the  merits  of  Louis  the  Lusty 
(or  Louis  the  Fat,  as  we  call  him). 

Was  this  liturgy  so  different  from  the 
campaign  songs  we  sing  now  ?  It  was  really 
more  called  for,  since  enthusiasm  over  the 
royal  person  is  one  of  the  legitimate  tools 
of  monarchy,  and  Louis  VI  is  an  early 
monarch  who  deserves  credit  for  abetting 
the  gradual  advance  of  France  from  a  feu- 
dality to  a  veritable  kingdom. 

Suger,  individually,  did  not  stand  too 
greatly  in  awe  of  royalty,  for  he  peremp- 
torily ordered  Louis  VII  to  come  back 
from  the  "Holy  Wars"  to  attend  to  his 
mundane  duties,  and  be  it  credited  to  that 
monarch  that  he  graciously  obeyed  the  old 
friend  of  his  father. 

Suger  is  the  most  interesting  personality 
that  comes  down  to  us  from  France  of  the 
twelfth  century.  Though  a  few  character- 
istic anecdotes  are  told  of  him,  we  know 
him  most  intimately  as  the  builder  of  Saint 
Denis  and  the  far-seeing  friend  of  the  arts 
and  crafts.  It  was  said  that  he  was  a  good 
goldsmith,  and  his  sympathy  with  skilled 
labor  lends  color  to  the  statement;  but 
however  hazy  our  other  impressions  of 
Suger  may  be,  we  know  how  he  loved  the 

[39] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

old  Abbey  of  Saint  Denis — "  sa  mere  et  sa 
nourrtce."  As  a  churchman  he  loved  the 
blessed  spot  to  which  the  angels  had  es- 
corted brave  old  Saint  Denis,  when,  after 
his  martyrdom,  he  picked  up  his  head  and 
walked  along  with  them  unto  the  place 
"where  he  now  resteth  by  his  election  and 
the  puveance  of  God.  And  there  was  heard 
so  grete  and  swete  a  melody  of  angels  that 
many  that  heard  it  byleuyd  in  oure  lorde." 
He  loved  the  old  building  that  Dagobert, 
the  Robin  Hood  of  French  monarchs,  had 
built  so  royally,  almost  five  hundred  years 
before  his  day,  for  the  poor  and  lowly,  and 
for  which  the  pleasant  Saint  Eloi,  patron 
of  goldsmiths,  singing  as  he  worked,  had 
made  the  wondrously  beautiful  old  reli- 
quary ;  and  as  a  man  of  literary  feeling,  he 
loved  the  old  Abbey  as  his  Alma  Mater. 
But  the  diocese  had  grown,  and  on  festal 
days  so  pressing  were  the  crowds  who  would 
touch  the  holy  relics  of  Saint  Denis  that 
good  people  were  continually  being  trod- 
den underfoot  by  eager  and  other  worldly 
worshipers.  So  Suger  decided  to  enlarge 
the  church.  He  did  not  touch  the  dear 
old  choir  of  Saint  Denis:  that  was  con- 
secrated to  God  and,  too,  it  was  tenderly 
hallowed  to  man  by  many  human  associa- 


Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the  Imagiers 

tions ;  but  he  decided  to  add  to  it  a  great 
nave. 

Of  course  at  first  the  crowds  vigorously 
abetted  him,  humbly  harnessing  themselves 
together  like  beasts  of  burden  to  draw 
the  stone  from  the  quarry.  The  trumpet 
sounded ;  banners  were  unfurled,  and  the 
procession  marched ;  except  for  the  mur- 
mur of  those  who  confessed  their  sins  to 
God,  silence  reigned.  When  the  concourse 
arrived  at  the  holy  site,  the  multitude  burst 
forth  into  a  song  of  praise.  Their  sins  once 
disposed  of,  the  ardor  of  the  multitude 
may  have  flagged,  for  we  read  of  the  busy 
little  Abbe  leaving  the  cares  of  state  to  go 
himself  to  the  forests  in  search  of  the  big 
timber  others  had  not  the  enthusiasm  to 
find. 

That  the  very  earth  might  pay  its  trib- 
ute to  the  blessed  martyr,  Suger  studded 
the  new  golden  screen  in  front  of  the  tomb 
of  Saint  Denis  with  gems  from  "every  land 
of  the  world,"  and  then  the  little  old  Abbe 
conceived  of  a  still  higher  tribute :  he  gath- 
ered skill  from  "  every  country  in  the 
world"  ( his  world  was  small,  it  is  true) ;  he 
gave  to  these  skilled  craftsmen  the  honor  of 
working  on  "the  Church,  his  Mother"; 
besides,  they  taught  in  the  layman's  school 

[41] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

of  architecture,  which  he  established  in  the 
yard  of  the  old  abbey. 

To  the  amazement  of  the  world,  in  that 
day  of  serfdom,  Suger  voluntarily  paid  his 
workmen  and  paid  them  by  the  week;  and 
with  the  force  and  intensity  that  was  in 
him,  he  advanced  architecture  as  much  in 
the  ten  years  he  was  rebuilding  Saint  Denis 
as  others  had  done  in  a  hundred.  The  in- 
fluence of  his  school  of  architecture  still 
lives.  It  was  one  of  our  earliest  instances 
of  systematic  training  for  the  laity,  and 
those  who  would  trace  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance to  French  and  classic  sources,  attach 
especial  importance  to  the  imagiers  of  Saint 
Denis. 

An  immense  number  of  statues,  varying 
greatly  in  excellence,  were  made  during  the 
Middle  Ages  to  decorate  the  churches.  In 
our  meagre  records  of  the  period,  we  even 
come  across  instances  of  peasants  traveling 
far  and  spending  their  all  to  secure  an  es- 
pecially beautiful  Madonna,  and  we  are 
assured  of  miraculous  rewards,  spiritual  and 
temporal,  coming  to  them  from  it.  Actu- 
ally, through  the  enthusiasm  and  liberality 
of  these  rude  people,  miracles  of  art  have 
wrought  their  magical  effect  upon  the  imag- 
ination of  generations  and  generations  of 

[42] 


In  the  Sixteenth  Century  the 

French  Academy  Changed  the  Name  of  the 

Jmagjtrf  Guild  to  the  Sculptors'. 


Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the  Imagiers 

men.  These  imagiers  became  so  numerous 
that  they  formed  a  powerful  guild  in  which 
a  race  of  sculptors  was  born  and  bred. 
While  Sculpture  was  merely  the  hand- 
maiden and  scribe  of  Architecture,  her 
craftsmen  were  called  imagiers.  But  the 
imagiers  became  so  expert  that  in  the  sev- 
enteenth century  the  French  Academy 
changed  the  name  of  their  order  to  the 
"Sculptor's  Guild." 

That  the  imagier  loved  the  cathedral 
which  he  was  dowering  with  what  talent  he 
possessed  is  most  likely ;  for,  added  to  the 
simple  conscientiousness,  alike  in  all  ages, 
of  the  worker  who  loves  his  craft  and 
respects  himself,  was  the  intensity  of  the 
Age  of  Faith. 

Gothic  art  may  have  been  lived  more 
generally  even  than  Grecian,  for  it  was  the 
only  intellectual  outlet  of  its  age.  Much 
of  its  symbolism  is  now  a  dead  language. 
We  guess  at  the  meaning  of  the  gargoyles 
and  grotesques,  and  draw  liberal  interpre- 
tations from  the  lips  of  the  smiling  angels 
who  spoke  more  familiarly  to  a  childish 
people;  but  when  we  count  the  decorative 
kings  and  bishops  ranged  in  rows  upon  the 
grand  fa9ades,  their  supremacy  over  the 
souls,  bodies  and  estates  of  men,  of  which 

[43] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

we  know  so  well,  seems  the  myth  of  myths. 
However,  we  can  read  some  of  the  old 
carvings,  which  had  nothing  in  particular 
to  say  at  the  time  they  were  made,  like  a 
book.  Hybrid  designs  on  pillars,  capitals 
and  cornices  speak  of  the  chivalrous  meet- 
ing of  the  east  and  the  west  on  the  broad 
field  of  art.  They  bring  up  pictures  of  the 
rude  crusaders  overpowered  by  their  first 
view  of  oriental  elaboration,  and  we  smile 
to  see  how  it  set  them  imitating,  or,  better 
still,  adapting,  and  how  the  arts  of  war  may 
bring  about  the  arts  of  peace;  for,  in  the 
fulness  of  time,  those  who  strive,  achieve, 
if  not  for  themselves  and  their  cause,  for 
others  and  perhaps  for  a  better  cause. 

Another  art  made  great  strides  during 
the  rebuilding  of  Saint  Denis, —  the  glass- 
maker's.  We  read  about  Vitrearii  as  far 
back  as  Charlemagne's  time.  The  windows 
they  made  were  glass  mosaics,  held  together 
with  lead  instead  of  stucco,  forming  little 
gem-like  pictures  above  the  holy  altars, 
which  told  sacred  stories  beautifully,  for  in 
this  way  many  scenes  could  be  connected 
on  one  window;  besides,  color,  like  music, 
takes  the  emotions  captive.  One  must  ex- 
amine a  statue  to  realize  it,  but,  in  the 
phrase  of  the  studio,  color  "sings."  A  child- 

[44] 


Cp 


Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the  Imagiers 

ish  old  chronicler  relates  that  the  retainers 
of  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  were  obliged  almost 
to  tear  him  away  from  the  churches,  so 
absorbed  was  he  in  gazing  on  the  windows. 
Was  it  through  beautiful  windows  that  the 
mystic  aspiration  of  the  mute  minor  poets 
of  the  cloister  was  finally  reflected  upon  the 
man  of  action  who  took  the  first  step,  all 
unconsciously,  toward  the  deliverance  of 
his  age  from  its  dark,  narrow  bondage? 

As  a  soldier,  Godfrey  de  Bouillon  had 
answered  the  call  of  the  pilgrims  who  de- 
manded protection;  as  a  soldier,  he  had 
kept  the  peace  (when  there  was  any  to 
keep).  He  was  the  one  early  crusader 
of  whom  we  have  record,  who  seems  to 
have  had  the  slightest  idea  of  the  fitness  of 
things ;  indeed,  in  feeling,  he  was  as  truly 
a  poet  as  a  soldier.  "  So,  day  after  day,  in 
silence  and  in  peace,  with  equal  measure 
and  just  sale,  did  the  Duke  and  the  people 
pass  through  the  realms  of  Hungary," 
writes  an  astonished  old  chronicler,  for 
Godfrey  de  Bouillon  had  paid  the  way  of 
his  army  to  the  Holy  City  —  an  unheard 
of  idea  in  warfare !  How  quixotic  he  must 
have  seemed ! 

Language  has  changed  since  those  win- 
dows spoke  to  Godfrey  of  Bouillon.  But 

[45] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

when  a  general  stops  on  his  line  of  march 
for  higher  council  and  then  steers  so  true 
through  the  darkest  day  toward  a  faint,  far- 
distant  light,  must  he  not  have  seen 
through  the  glass  darkly  ? 

It  was  but  a  few  years  after  this  "parfit 
gentil "  knight  passed  away  before  he  was 
as  dear  a  hero  of  romance  as  King  Arthur 
had  become  after  many  centuries,  so  little 
was  there  in  his  life  for  men  to  forget,  so 
much  that  was  sweet  to  dream  upon.  I  sup- 
pose his  story  must  have  been  related  many 
times  in  beautiful  glass,  though  as  the 
panes  grew  larger  and  finer  they  told  their 
stories  less  personally ;  but  gallant  knights 
on  windows  far  and  near  are  still  reflecting 
an  ideal  that  came  to  the  First  Baron  of 
Jerusalem  through  the  old  church's  win- 
dows. Might  it  not  be  said  of  these  old 
church  builders,  who  builds  from  the  heart 
feeds  three :  himself,  his  hungry  neighbor, 
and  Me? 

To  make  windows  like  those  of  Saint 
Denis,  an  orderly,  organized  factory  was 
necessary,  and  organization  was  the  crying 
need  of  that  age.  Another  astonished  old 
chronicler  repeats,  that  in  those  days  of 
serfdom  Suger  paid  his  glass-workers.  But 
the  men  learned  their  rights  more  readily 

[46] 


Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the  Imagiers 

than  the  chroniclers.  Thereafter  we  con- 
stantly run  upon  the  records  of  powerful 
workmen's  unions  or  guilds.  In  fact,  we 
read  of  them  later  on  the  glass  itself.  These 
splendid  church  windows  were,  of  course, 
very  costly,  and  then,  as  now,  they  were 
usually  presented  to  the  churches.  We  find 
the  guilds  are  the  proud  donors  of  many 
of  them;  two  fine  old  church  windows  come 
down  to  us  proudly  representing  some 
imagiers  and  glass-makers  at  their  work, 
those  guilds  having  thus  elected  to  "with 
the  angels  stand." 

Complaints  of  the  luxury  of  the  church 
also  come  down.  Saint  Bernard  declares 
"their  stones  were  gilded  with  the  money 
of  the  needy  and  wretched  to  charm  the 
eyes  of  the  rich"  (but  had  the  poor  no 
eyes?).  Being  against  the  government 
by  temperament,  Saint  Bernard  especially 
abominated  the  royal  Abbey  of  Saint  Denis. 
He  complained  of  the  "unclean  apes  and 
befowled  tigers"  upon  which  Suger's  imag- 
iers developed  their  skill,  and  it  is  written 
(how  the  writer  arrived  at  the  scene  he 
does  not  explain)  that  as  Suger's  confessor, 
Bernard  commanded  him  to  divest  his 
mind  of  mundane  cares  and  to  dream  only 
of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem. 

[47] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

But  the  world  weighed  on  Suger  as  long 
as  he  remained  in  it:  his  dream  was  of  two 
splendid  powers,  England  and  France,  sep- 
arated, but  living  in  peace !  Suger  was  not 
in  favor  of  crusades.  He  was  the  one  eccle- 
siastic who  would  subject  the  clergy  as  well 
as  the  laity  to  royal  authority,  rendering 
unto  Caesar  that  which  was  Caesar's.  Though 
a  priest,  in  his  political  methods  Suger  was 
a  broad,  true  and  practical  patriot,  and  if, 
unlike  Saint  Bernard,  he  was  not  adapted 
for  canonization,  he  was  a  hero  to  his  pri- 
vate secretary  and  to  his  king ;  and  he  still 
is  a  hero  to  the  modern  student  of  archi- 
tecture, or  of  economics. 

Into  the  very  walls  of  his  big  and  simple 
old  church  the  "little  old  Abbe"  built  his 
big  and  simple  sermon.  It  read:  "  Let  us 
have  good,  honest,  beautiful  work,  doing 
honor  alike  to  God  and  man.  Let  us  train 
our  craftsmen,  pay  them  and  respect  them." 

Though  Saint  Denis  may  lack  the  mys- 
tical beauty  of  the  best  Gothic,  so  noble 
and  satisfactory  is  its  design  that  the  nine- 
teenth century  could  do  no  better  than  to 
restore  it. 

Though  Suger's  economics  were  very 
simple,  the  twentieth  century  has  found  no 
better  platform :  "  Pay  your  workmen  vol- 

[48] 


Abbe  of  Saint  Denis  and  the  Imagiers 

untarily,  and  summon  all,  from  the  king 
down,  into  their  respective  fields  of  labor ; 
only  when  they  all  respond,  we  shall  have 
a  lovelier  church  than  the  old  Abbey  of 
Saint  Denis." 


[49] 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of 
Chartres 

THE  Episcopal  Church  recognizes  three 
distinct  divisions:  the  High  Church, 
or  mystical  element  that,  words  failing, 
would  speak  by  symbols ;  the  Low  Church, 
that  would  say  what  it  means  and  mean 
what  it  says;  and  the  Broad  Church,  that 
would  set  aside  details  and  seek  in  religion 
a  general  harmony. 

Though  they  are  not  so  formally  defined, 
these  same  divisions,  being  based  on  hu- 
man temperaments,  exist  in  other  sects  so 
literally  that  the  same  symbols  have  met 
with  the  identical  adoption  and  objection. 
About  205,  Tertullian  ridiculed  the  use  of 
candles  on  the  altars  of  the  early  church, 
and  Lactance  took  up  the  subject  some 
hundred  years  later.  Thereafter  Saint  Je- 
rome laid  these  still  troublesome  candles  at 
the  door  of  the  laity,  especially  of  the 
women.  However,  the  symbol  and  the 
women  conquered. 

\5°] 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

In  this  desultory  search  of  ours  for  hints 
of  the  social  history  of  the  old  French  ca- 
thedral builders,  we  meet  with  the  high  and 
low  church  elements  which  seem,  though 
this  idea  may  be  fanciful,  to  have  influenced 
the  appearance  even  of  their  respective 
churches.  There  is  the  grandly  simple  and 
direct  architecture,  the  Cathedral  of  Laon, 
which  inclined  to  Low  Church,  allowing 
its  votaries  considerable  latitude,  and  the 
symbolically  ornate  cathedral  at  Chartres, 
which  from  remote  ages  has  been  a  noted 
shrine  of  mysticism.  Its  site  was  holy 
ground  to  the  early  Christian  and  perhaps 
to  the  Druids  before  him.  Tradition  has  it 
that  even  to  them  on  this  hallowed  spot 
came  a  prophecy  of  the  Messiah.  (If  it 
did,  it  probably  came  from  some  Jewish 
source  in  the  days  of  the  Romans.) 

There  is  a  charming  story,  more  than 
legend,  if  less  than  history,  of "  Notre 
Dame  Sous  Terre"  of  Chartres.  While 
most  of  the  early  Christians,  in  a  spirit  of 
hatred,  were  destroying  false  gods  and  their 
shrines,  some  pioneers  of  Christianity  found 
in  a  grotto  at  Chartres  a  figure  which  had 
been  worshiped  by  the  Druids,  resembling 
their  own  Madonna,  whereby,  to  these 
gentle  priests,  she  seemed  doubly  hallowed. 


Flowers  From  Mtdiaval  History 

Accepting  her  grotto  as  already  consecrate, 
they  located  their  high  altar  there,  upon  it 
reinstated  the  old  Madonna  of  the  Druids, 
and  in  a  humble  spirit,  along  with  their 
simple  converts,  they  bowed  down  before 
her,  for  upon  them  had  descended  that 
sovereign  reverence  which  appreciates  an- 
other man's  god. 

From  the  time  this  old  druidic  figure 
was  raised  upon  a  Christian  altar  to  this 
day,  first  honors  have  been  accorded  to  her 
shrine.  Before  her  or  her  representative 
have  bowed,  weary  and  footsore,  every  one 
of  the  French  kings,  from  Clovis  to  Louis 
XV,  as  well  as  innumerable  other  pilgrims, 
rich  or  poor,  gathered  from  every  land  of 
Christendom  by  the  democracy  of  the 
church. 

Even  the  revolutionists  recognized  this 
"  First  Lady  of  Chartres,"  for  while  they 
lumped  other  relics  together  in  general 
destruction  they  paid  Notre  Dame  Sous 
Terre  the  back-handed  compliment  of  a 
special  bonfire  at  the  cathedral  door. 

The  sansculottes  have  passed  away  with- 
out individual  record,  but  a  charmingly 
carved  representative  of  the  old  Notre 
Dame  Sous  Terre  still  occupies  the  most 
venerated  shrine  of  Chartres;  while  its 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

old-time  spirit  of  church  hospitality  yet 
pervades  the  noble  cathedral  that  has  de- 
veloped above  her  grotto,  her  clergy  still 
smile  kindly  upon  the  pilgrim  and  the 
stranger,  even  though  his  interest  in  their 
church  be  solely  artistic.  They  seem  to 
say :  "  Take  from  our  old  cathedral  what 
you  may,  surely  her  beauty  is  pure  and 
holy." 

True  religious  art  can  but  lead  to  some 
phase  of  piety,  as  August  Rodin  declares 
that  all  true  art  must.  It  may  be  but  a 
chance  title;  however,  the  latest  book  on 
French  Gothic  speaks  of  "  Chartres,  the 
House  of  Prayer";  but  certainly  the  feeling 
which  has  been  lavished  on  this  spot,  the 
passionate  generosity  of  devotees  through 
long  ages,  has  brought  forth  one  of  the 
most  sacredly  beautiful  churches  in  the 
world. 

Now  let  us  investigate  literally  the  claims 
of  Notre  Dame  Sous  Terre.  Recent  ex- 
cavations prove  that  the  present  Cathedral 
of  Chartres  is  built  over  a  grotto,  where 
the  Druids  probably  held  their  services. 
In  excavating  under  and  around  the  choir 
of  the  cathedral,  vestiges  of  ancient  altars 
and  idols  were  unearthed  which  prove  con- 
clusively that  the  symbols  of  the  heathen 

[53] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

were  not  cleared  away  violently.  The  pol- 
icy of  Rome  tended  toward  religious  tol- 
erance; the  gods  of  the  Romans  often 
mixed  peaceably  in  the  temples  with  the 
gods  of  the  people  Rome  conquered,  hence 
the  cult  of  the  Virgin  might  have  existed 
along  with  that  of  the  pagan  gods. 

In  the  early  days  of  Christianity  the 
Virgin  was  not  given  the  prominence  she 
acquired  after  the  eighth  century ;  this  fig- 
ure known  as  the  druidic  Madonna  may 
even  have  represented  some  sweet,  moth- 
erly goddess  of  another  name.  Symbols 
are  elastic,  therein  lies  their  supreme  value; 
they  may  be  all  things  to  all  men.  Words 
always  have  brought  division  to  the  church; 
symbols,  unity.  The  wisest  and  kindest  of 
the  early  bishops  had  the  most  grace  in 
translating  the  old  symbols  of  their  con- 
verts into  the  picturesque  language  of  their 
new  church.  For  instance,  Gregory  the 
Great  changed  the  pagan  memorial  custom 
of  putting  food  on  graves  on  a  certain  fete- 
day  to  bringing  flowers  for  the  graves  and 
praying  for  the  dead  on  All  Souls  Day. 
The  early  Christian  missionaries  at  Char- 
tres  may  have  believed  this  figure  to  be  a 
Madonna  or  they  may  have  translated  it 
into  one.  Indeed,  it  is  not  the  genuineness 

[54] 


Saint  Martin,  Saint  Jerome 

and  Saint  Gregory,  at  They  Stand  Forth  on 

a  Pillar  at  CAartrei. 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

of  the  figure  itself  that  is  the  point  of  this 
story ;  it  is  the  attitude  of  the  Chartrians 
toward  it. 

From  the  character  of  the  Gallo-Romaine 
substructure  of  the  Chapel  of  Saint  Lubin  in 
the  crypt  of  Chartres,  the  list  of  the  early 
bishops  of  that  diocese  and  the  general 
history  of  the  evangelization  of  Gaul,  it  is 
inferred  that  ever  since  the  beginning  of 
the  fourth  century  a  bishop's  church  has 
stood  on  the  site  of  the  present  cathedral. 
Mingled  with  all  the  superstition  of  its 
age  there  was  a  certain  tolerant  broad- 
church  element  maintained  at  Chartres  from 
the  first.  Perhaps  that  made  the  church 
so  peculiarly  dear  to  the  people  of  France, 
for  though  the  French  kings  were  crowned 
at  Rheims  and  buried  at  Saint  Denis, 
Chartres  seems  the  most  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  their  lives.  It  is  written  that 
after  his  conversion  Clovis  stopped  there 
for  further  instruction,  and  Gibbon  ob- 
serves his  measures  were  sometimes  mod- 
erated by  the  milder  genius  of  Rome  and 
Christianity.  The  Carlovingian  kings  were 
very  partial  to  Chartres.  Charles  the  Bald, 
who  comes  down  to  us  familiarly  as  a 
church  builder  through  an  old  picture  in 
which  he  holds  a  cast  of  a  cathedral  in  his 

[55] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

hand,  conferred  the  most  precious  of  relics 
upon  Chartres — the  Sanfta  Camisia  of  the 
Virgin!  Robert  the  Pious  contributed  a 
sapphire.  Within  her  mystic  walls  sensible 
Louis  the  Fat  pardoned  his  enemies ;  there 
Philippe  le  Bel,  Charles  le  Bel  and  Philippe 
de  Valois  gave  thanks  for  their  victories, 
childishly  presenting  their  armor  and  their 
beloved  war-horses  to  this  Church,  their 
Mother.  Saint  Louis  marched  barefooted 
about  twenty-one  miles  to  endow  Chartres 
with  her  beautiful  Portail  Septentrionale. 
And  when  Henry  IV  changed  his  religion, 
let  us  believe  with  the  really  good  inten- 
tion of  bringing  about  a  little  peace  on 
earth  to  Frenchmen,  he  elected  to  be  con- 
secrated at  Chartres,  "  by  reason  of  the  pe- 
culiar devotion  of  his  ancestors,  the  Dukes 
of  Vendome,  to  the  old  cathedral,  the  most 
ancient  in  Christendom."  There  were  rea- 
sons why  he  could  not  conveniently  have 
been  crowned  at  Rheims  like  other  French 
kings,  that  city  being  hostile  to  him.  But 
Henry  IV  always  had  a  clever  and  suffi- 
cient answer. 

To  return  to  the  material  story  of  the 
old  bishops'  church  near  the  well  of  Saint 
Lubin,  our  first  dated  record  takes  us  back 
into  a  feudal  war.  In  743,  Hanald  due 

[56] 


A  View  Through  the  Portail 

of  CAartres,  -which  Louis  IX  Walked  Barefooted 

Twenty-one  Miles  to  Present,  in  a  Lowly 

Sfirit,  to  the  Church. 


"The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

d'Aquitaine,  fighting  the  Comte  de  Char- 
tres, burned  the  town  cathedral ;  but  when 
he  realized  what  he  had  done  he  retired  to 
a  monastery  to  do  penance  all  the  rest  of 
his  days.  Was  it  in  superstition?  Was 
it  in  true  repentance?  Did  he  burn  the 
church  by  accident?  That  might  have 
been.  The  simple  piety  of  the  Dark  Ages 
that  would  build  "The  House  of  God" 
for  all  time  rendered  the  churches  the 
strongest  of  buildings,  and  defensive  armies 
often  resorted  to  them;  then,  too,  there 
were  spiritual  objections  to  attacking  a 
church.  This  factor  was  sometimes  over- 
estimated. 

The  Cathedral  of  Chartres  was  rebuilt, 
only  to  be  burned  down  one  hundred  and 
fifteen  years  after  by  the  Normans.  Dur- 
ing this  siege  the  non-combatants  of  the 
town  confidently  took  refuge  in  the  cathe- 
dral with  their  bishop  instead  of  buying  off 
the  pirates  with  gold  from  the  Holy  Altar 
as  the  people  of  Rheims  had  done  (they 
are  all  gone  now  and  God  knows  which 
did  best).  Unexpectedly,  neither  church 
nor  bishop  impressed  the  Normans,  who 
overturned  the  city  walls,  burned  the  build- 
ings, massacred  the  bishop,  and  every  one 
else  who  came  in  their  way;  but  after  the 

[57] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

Normans  left,  the  Chartrians  had  the  cold 
comfort  of  gathering  their  dead  and  laying 
them  away  beside  the  Well  of  Saint  Lubin 
and  "  through  the  merits  of  those  there  re- 
posing a  crowd  of  miracles  were  wrought." 
About  this  period  the  disease  we  now  know 
as  erysipelas  came  to  be  highly  respected. 
In  France  it  was  called  le  mal  des  ardents ; 
in  England,  the  "sacred  fire";  for,  one 
thousand  years  ago  processions  like  those 
that  now  visit  Lourdes  were  pressing  on 
to  Chartres  to  drink  of  the  holy  spring. 
The  world  moves,  but  somewhat  in  a 
groove.  At  this  Lourdes  of  the  Dark  Ages 
the  afflicted  were  tended  by  nuns,  but  we 
find  a  certain  telltale  regulation:  —  after 
nine  days  (ample  time  for  blood  poisoning 
to  develop  unmistakably)  the  sick  must  go 
home,  "  cured  or  not." 

Was  medical  practice  then  so  much 
worse  than  ours  during  the  Rebellion, 
when  old  rags  of  the  nation  were  collected 
and  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  women 
scraped  them  into  lint  full  of  germs  for 
the  wounded  soldiers  ?  But  if  the  church 
was  a  crazy  physician,  she  was  a  gentle 
nurse.  She  established  a  chivalry  toward 
the  sick  that  no  Cervantes  would  laugh 
away.  It  lives  in  medical  ethics,  and  the 

[58] 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

quixotic  obligation  of  the  do<5tor  to  leave 
no  stone  unturned  for  his  patient  has  been 
the  foundation  of  medical  science.  Some 
of  the  old  Hotels-Dieu  of  blessed  name 
and  memory  have  developed  into  up-to- 
date  hospitals  and  medical  schools,  like 
Charing  Cross  Hospital,  London,  which 
still  enjoys  its  mediaeval  benefice,  while 
modern  hospitals,  in  general,  are  moral  de- 
scendants of  the  old  ideal. 

Again  the  old  Church  of  Chartres  was 
rebuilt,  again  to  stand  for  a  little  over  a 
century.  This  building  had  the  satisfaction 
( may  we  not  use  the  figure,  for  the  medi- 
aeval church  was  very  human)  of  seeing 
the  Normans,  under  Rollo,  defeated  by  an 
army  marching  under  its  blessed  standard, 
the  San 51  a  Camisia  of  the  Virgin  borne 
aloft  as  a  banner.  But  later,  Rollo  married 
the  daughter  of  Charles  the  Simple,  settled 
down  in  Normandy,  presented  his  castle 
to  the  see  of  the  Bishop  of  Chartres  and 
adopted  the  Christian  religion.  A  double 
victory  for  the  church!  Many  of  the  first 
Norman  converts  were  baptized  a  dozen 
times,  for  the  sake  of  excitement  or  for  the 
white  garment  given  them  at  the  ceremony. 
Thereafter  the  funeral  of  Rollo  was  ren- 
dered doubly  memorable  by  the  slaughter 

[59] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

of  one  hundred  captives  and  rich  gifts  to 
the  monasteries. 

In  spite  of  the  Santta  Camisia^  in  spite 
of  all  the  remains  of  all  of  the  martyrs  that 
had  been  aggregating  in  the  martyrmm  un- 
der the  church  for  seven  hundred  years, 
in  962  Richard  of  Normandy  burned  the 
cathedral  with  the  town.  But  the  relics  had 
not  been  powerless,  for  this  was  the  last 
pagan  outbreak.  The  church  had  the  holy 
triumph  of  Christianizing  her  adversaries, 
and  the  martyrium^  between  the  excellence 
of  its  building  material,  the  water  of  the 
spring  of  Saint  Lubin  near  by,  and  "the 
merits  of  those  there  reposing,"  remained 
intact  and  was  found  in  the  excavations  of 
1901 ;  but  the  spring  is  gone;  it  was  prob- 
ably diverted  by  the  foundations  of  the 
present  cathedral. 

Though  a  paralyzing  conviction  had 
come  upon  the  people,  Bishop  Vulpard 
immediately  started  to  rebuild.  It  had 
somehow  been  very  generally  decided  that 
the  world  would  come  to  an  end  in  the 
year  1000,  so  near  at  hand. 

How  did  this  private  information  re- 
garding the  future  affect  the  multitude? 
They  probably  took  it  riotously, — at  least, 
such  has  been  the  experience  in  times  of 

[60] 


A  Detail  of  the  Portail  Septentrional. 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

plague  and  horror,  when  it  seemed  that 
the  race  was  about  to  be  wiped  out.  In- 
deed, it  is  only  for  others  that  the  saner, 
better  life  is  led  —  best  of  all,  unconsciously 
led. 

We  do  know  that  at  that  time  church 
building  flagged.  Ah,  be  it  credited  to 
these  old  builders,  they  worked  for  others 
rather  than  themselves !  Nevertheless,  the 
latter  part  of  the  tenth  century  is  the  day 
of  vast  and  massive  crypts  of  which  Char- 
tres is  one  of  the  noblest  examples.  Let 
us  hope  that  brave  old  Vulpard  lived  to 
see  it  under  way. 

History  has  very  little  to  say  of  the  de- 
lusion regarding  the  year  1000,  except  that 
it  shows  that  the  church  gained  ground 
therefrom.  Many  persons  thought  it  well 
to  present  their  goods  to  the  churches  since 
they  could  not  use  them  much  longer  them- 
selves. Scarce  as  records  are,  we  have  one 
instance  of  the  church  helping  the  world 
out  of  one  of  the  dilemmas  arising  from 
this  misunderstanding.  We  do  know  posi- 
tively that  the  valuables  of  the  Church  of 
Saint  Benignus  of  Dijon  were  all  sold  to 
relieve  the  famine  of  the  year  1001.  Prob- 
ably the  ground  had  not  been  sown  the 
previous  autumn. 

[61] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

However  often  it  has  fallen  from  grace, 
in  the  main  the  Christian  Church  has  won 
its  way  by  service.  However  often  its  ser- 
vices have  been  mistaken,  it  has  maintained 
the  ideal  that  the  Christian  should  serve 
the  world. 

Instead  of  the  world's  coming  to  an  end 
according  to  their  schedule,  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  Chartrians,  lightning  singled 
out  their  holy  church  and  burned  it  to  the 
ground.  Some  of  the  more  or  less  logically 
inclined  suggested  that  some  of  the  pil- 
grims might  have  been  guilty  of  indiscre- 
tions within  its  consecrated  walls  and  thus 
have  brought  down  this  celestial  disaster. 

The  church  had  a  particularly  charming 
bishop  at  that  time  who  arose  to  the  as- 
tonishing occasion  and  called  for  help  from 
the  whole  religious  world  regardless  of 
nationality.  He  might  be  known  as  the 
successful  correspondent  of  history.  We 
still  have  some  of  his  letters.  The  one  to 
Cnut,  King  of  England  and  Denmark,  is 
certainly  a  flower  of  history,  showing,  as 
it  does,  the  sympathy  of  a  great  king  with 
a  great  scholar  (as  the  times  went)  and  a 
great  movement.  Fulbert  writes,  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  Cnut's  donation  to  his 
building  fund:  "When  we  saw  the  offer- 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

ing  which  you  deigned  to  send  us,  we 
admired  at  once  your  astonishing  wisdom 
and  religious  spirit;  your  wisdom,  in  that 
you,  a  prince,  divided  from  us  by  language 
and  by  sea,  are  zealously  concerned  not 
only  with  the  things  around  you  but  also 
with  things  that  touch  us ;  in  your  religious 
spirit,  in  that  you,  of  whom  we  have  heard 
speak  as  a  pagan  king,  show  yourself  a 
very  Christian  and  generous  benefactor  of 
churches  and  servants  of  God.  We  render 
lively  thanks  to  the  King  of  kings  through 
whose  mercy  your  gifts  have  descended 
upon  us,  and  we  beseech  Him  to  make 
your  reign  happy  and  prosperous,  to  de- 
liver your  soul  from  all  sin."  The  result 
of  Fulbert's  appeals  proves  that  Chris- 
tianity had  established  a  brotherhood  on 
earth.  Though  much  of  Fulbert's  struc- 
ture was  burned  within  ten  years  the  church 
inherits  both  spiritually  and  materially 
from  him;  his  crypt  is  left  and  it  gives 
lines  to  the  splendid  church  we  know. 
Saint  Thierry  rebuilt  the  upper  church, 
and  it  grew  in  beauty  under  Saint  Ivo,  who 
succeeded  in  getting  the  ear  of  Mathilda 
of  England.  Not  that  Saint  Ivo  was  a 
snob,  for  in  his  time  we  may  see  among 
the  records  timely  rebukes  to  royalty  and 

[63] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

dignified  acknowledgment  of  the  services 
of  individual  -workmen  upon  the  mighty 
edifice.  After  all,  there  is  nothing  sweeter 
than  the  "widow's  mite."  A  great  deal  is 
said  by  social  historians  about  the  tax 
upon  the  communities  for  these  splendid 
churches,  but  they  overlook  the  joy  of 
public  giving,  which  also  moulds  and 
unites  a  people. 

And  now  this  wonderful  old  church, 
which  echoes  from  tower  to  crypt  with  the 
human  story,  commences  to  speak  pic- 
turesquely of  the  wild  Holy  Wars.  The 
heavy  Dark  Ages  developed  its  crypt. 
The  body  of  the  church  passed  through 
many  metamorphoses  in  the  time  inter- 
vening until  a  period  of  the  greatest  reli- 
gious enthusiasm  crowned  the  cathedral 
with  its  marvelous  towers. 

In  all  history  is  there  a  movement  more 
extraordinary,  more  far-reaching,  more  cu- 
rious than  the  crusades?  They  are  about 
as  surprising  to  a  reader  today  as  they  were 
to  the  Emperor  of  Constantinople  when 
the  first  disorderly  army  appeared  at  his 
gates.  The  monk,  Guibert,  who,  at  least, 
seemed  to  have  more  grasp  of  the  subject 
than  any  other  contemporary  writer,  ingeni- 
ously suggested  that  "  God  invented  the 

[64] 


A  Thirteenth  Century  Statement 

of  the  Liability  of  Pride  to  Have  a  Fall 

Solemnly  Proclaimed  on  the  South 

Portal  of  Chartres. 


"The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

crusades  as  a  new  way  for  his  laity  to  atone 
for  their  sins  and  merit  salvation."  Cer- 
tainly they  thus  atoned  for  the  great  sin  of 
inertia.  No  army,  I  suppose,  was  ever  more 
confident,  more  surprised  or  more  disap- 
pointed than  that  of  the  crusaders.  How- 
ever, this  much  is  to  be  said  in  favor  of 
Guibert's  hypothesis.  From  that  time  forth 
the  laity  took  their  place  in  the  march  of 
civilization.  They  arose  and  left  the  Dark 
Ages  behind.  New  views  were  forced  upon 
them  at  the  point  of  the  sword, —  most 
needed  of  all,  new  civic  ideals. 

Separation  and  longing  and  the  sweet 
sorrow  of  parting  awoke  the  spirit  of  poetry, 
the  craving  for  beauty;  and  all  this  new 
thought  and  feeling  was  soon  to  blossom 
forth  in  the  one  art,  whose  mefierthe  people 
had  already  learned, —  architecture. 

Through  a  long  admixture  of  races,  by 
the  twelfth  century  ( hardly  before  it )  there 
had  arisen  in  Gaul  genuine  Frenchmen, 
who  from  the  beginning  were  most  artistic 
artisans  and  most  enthusiastic  partisans. 
They  spent  more  on  their  crusades  and  on 
their  churches  than  their  neighbors,  and 
they  were  to  reap  the  rewards  of  extrava- 
gance, always  more  imposing  than  those  of 
economy.  Money  poured  into  the  church 

[65] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

alike  from  those  who  went  to  the  Holy 
Land,  and  from  those  who  thus  excused 
themselves  from  going.  Incidentally  the 
Holy  Wars  diverted  a  disorderly  element 
of  nobles  and  serfs  from  France  to  Pales- 
tine. During  the  period  of  the  crusades 
the  Cathedral  of  Chartres  suffered  from 
two  fires  just  sixty  years  apart;  thus  in  re- 
building, the  overflowing  religious  excite- 
ment of  the  era  came  to  be  lavished  upon 
the  very  stones  of  the  cathedral. 

In  1134  a  great  fire  in  the  town  of 
Chartres  damaged  the  cathedral  so  far  as 
to  make  it  necessary  to  restore  the  fa9ade. 
In  spite  of  their  own  losses  the  Chartrians 
decided  that  their  church  should  be  finer 
than  ever.  She  should  have  two  connected 
towers,  instead  of  one  separated  from  the 
building  as  before.  And  the  design  they 
here  evolved  has  become  standard. 

To  effect  these  grand  restorations  the 
workmen  formed  themselves  into  perma- 
nent guilds.  One  especially  which  devoted 
itself  to  working  on  the  cathedral  was  hon- 
orably known  as  the  "Logeurs  du  Eon  Dieu." 
And  the  nobles  who  had  watched  the  work- 
men growing  in  grace  and  in  skill,  raising 
themselves  as  they  raised  the  temple,  were 
finally  seized  with  a  strange  and  humble 

[66] 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

enthusiasm  which  can  only  be  convincingly 
described  by  eye-witnesses. 

"In  this  same  year"  (i  144),  writes  Rob- 
ert Du  Mont, "at  Chartre  men  began  to 
harness  themselves  to  carts  laden  with 
stones,  wood  and  other  things,  and  drag 
them  to  the  site  of  the  church,  the  towers 
of  which  were  then  a-building." 

Says  Abbe  Haimon:  "Who  has  ever 
seen  or  heard  in  all  the  ages  of  the  past 
that  kings,  princes  and  lords,  mighty  in 
their  generation,  swollen  with  riches  and 
honor,  that  men  and  women,  I  say,  of  noble 
birth,  have  bowed  their  haughty  necks  to 
the  yoke  and  harnessed  themselves  to  carts 
like  beasts  of  burden,  and  drawn  them  laden 
with  wine,  corn,  oil,  stone  or  wood  and 
other  things  needful  for  the  maintenance 
of  life  or  the  construction  of  the  church, 
even  to  the  doors  of  the  asylum  of  Christ." 

"  Mighty  are  the  works  of  the  Lord," 
exclaims  Hugh  of  Rouen  (ready  to  use 
the  example).  "At  Chartres  men  have 
begun,  in  all  humility,  to  drag  carts  and 
vehicles  of  all  sorts  to  aid  the  building  of 
the  cathedral,  and  their  humility  has  been 
rewarded  by  miracles.  The  fame  of  these 
events  has  been  heard  everywhere  and  at 
last  roused  this  Normandy  of  ours.  Our 

[67] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

countrymen,  therefore,  after  receiving  our 
blessing,  have  set  out  for  that  place  and 
then  fulfilled  their  vows.  They  return 
with  the  resolution  to  imitate  these  Char- 
trians,  and  a  great  number  of  the  faithful 
of  our  diocese  and  the  dioceses  of  our 
province  have  begun  to  work  at  the  Cathe- 
dral, their  Mother." 

But  since  it  is  the  spirit  that  makes  the 
action  fine,  the  services  of  these  builders 
were  accepted  only  under  the  triple  con- 
dition of  confession,  penitence  and  recon- 
ciliation with  their  enemies ;  they  delivered 
their  offerings  in  tears,  while  disciplining 
themselves  with  blows. 

George  Eliot  speaks  of  a  common  feel- 
ing of  good-will  among  a  mass  of  men 
affecting  her  like  music;  to  such  music 
the  incomparable  tower  of  Chartres  was 
built,  and  a  later  age  sees  tears  transformed 
to  pearls  when  another  great  fire  destroyed 
the  old  part  of  the  cathedral,  and  they  had, 
in  rebuilding,  to  live  up  to  their  splendid 
new  fa9ade. 

The  cardinal  assembled  the  people  of 
Chartres  around  the  smoking  ruins  of  their 
dear  old  church  and  persuaded  them  to 
forget  their  personal  losses  and  to  think 
only  of  rebuilding  the  House  of  God;  and 

[68] 


A  Page  from  the 
Sculptured  '•'•Bible  of  the  Laity 
Chartrei. 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

the  people,united  by  the  strongest  of  bonds, 
a  common  disaster,  arose  again  to  work  for 
the  common  good,  and  again  Christians 
from  far  and  near  sent  in  their  donations. 
The  old  chroniclers  say  that  the  very  Holy 
Virgin  multiplied  her  miracles.  One  of 
them  we  still  have  before  us.  It  was  then 
and  there  that  an  architect,  whose  name  is 
forgotten  but  whose  genius  is  immortal, 
perfected  the  cathedral  type  of  thirteenth 
century  Gothic.  All  designers  of  Gothic 
churches  still  do  him  homage ;  all  lovers  of 
Gothic  architecture  still  sing  his  praise. 

And  the  old  church  at  Chartres  grew  on, 
gently  developing  her  people  on  many 
lines.  She  watched  her  imagiers  grow  into 
sculptors,  her  glass-workers  into  painters, 
the  more  or  less  serfs  of  the  soil  develop 
into  workmen,  then  guildsmen  and  free 
burghers  of  the  town ;  of  this  they  them- 
selves have  written  upon  her  very  walls. 
About  half  of  the  windows  of  the  cathe- 
dral we  find  were  presented  by  the  guilds ; 
the  other  half  by  kings,  princes  and  sei- 
gneurs, lay  and  ecclesiastic.  The  glass  of 
Chartres,  by  the  way,  is  considered  the 
finest  in  the  world. 

The  eighteenth  century  was  a  bad  day 
for  churches  in  France;  the  general  con- 

[69] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

tempt  in  the  air  for  the  past  led  them  to 
destroy  the  "  barbarians'  art,"  which  was 
good,  to  make  way  for  their  own,  which 
happened  to  be  bad.  The  Cathedral  of 
Chartres,  as  ever  so  truly  in  touch  with 
the  times,  suffered  from  the  artists  in  the 
early  part  of  the  century,  while  in  1793 
the  revolutionists  invaded  it.  They  buried 
the  relics  and  appraised  the  barbarians' 
statues  at  100  francs.  Then  the  next  idea 
was  to  knock  down  the  cathedral,  which 
they  found  was  not  so  easy ;  so  they  con- 
cluded to  transform  it  into  a  Temple  of 
Reason,  wherein  they  behaved  most  un- 
reasonably. Somebody  started  to  destroy 
the  immense  group  of  the  Assumption  on 
the  grand  altar.  It  represents  the  Virgin 
on  an  embankment  of  clouds  with  her 
arms  extended  and  her  figure  coming 
toward  the  congregation.  Her  "pied-a- 
terre"  of  clouds  (excuse  the  hibernicism) 
is  upheld  by  angels  and  every  face  and  at- 
titude in  the  group  is  full  of  aspiration  and 
action.  Although  as  sculpture,  this  group 
is  not  of  the  first  order,  as  allegory,  it  is 
perfect.  A  bright  idea  occurred  to  an  archi- 
tect present;  he  put  the  Phrygian  cap  up- 
on the  head  of  the  Virgin  and  a  lance  in 
her  hand,  and  the  old  symbol  became  the 

[70] 


Altar-piece  at  Chartres. 
The  Virgin  who  once  Wort  a  Liberty  Cap 


The  Mystic  Cathedral  of  Chartres 

new ;  with  her  arms  open  to  the  world  and 
her  eyes  turned  a  little  above  it,  the  Virgin 
of  Chartres  became  a  beautiful  emblem  of 
liberty.  I  wonder  if  she  impressed  any  of 
the  wild  congregation  before  her;  not  long 
thereafter  Napoleon  observed  that  "  Char- 
tres was  no  place  for  an  atheist." 

In  about  six  months  the  church  managed 
to  reinstate  itself  in  its  old  stronghold, 
though  the  Revolutionary  Commission  of 
public  works  (or  rather  the  commission 
for  the  destruction  of  public  works)  had 
had  the  impertinence  to  strip  the  lead  from 
the  cathedral  roof  to  make  its  ammunition. 

But  the  old  church  was  built  to  weather 
all  storms,  and  so  was  the  French  nation. 
The  revolutionists  besieged  the  Louvre 
and  turned  it  into  a  public  art  gallery.  The 
republic  has  quietly  advanced  much  farther 
in  its  right  of  eminent  domain  and  taken 
under  its  enlightened  protection  all  the 
great  monuments  of  architecture  in  all  fair 
France.  Nothing  is  more  charming  than  the 
enthusiasm  throughout  the  land,  extend- 
ing even  to  the  simplest  people,  over  these 
"national  monuments."  As  the  building 
of  them  long  ago  formed  a  bond  of  union 
with  the  communes,  so  the  love  of  them 
now  forms  a  bond  of  union  with  the  na- 

[71] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

tion.  Fostered  in  their  shadows,  French 
genius  was  able  to  bring  forth  at  need 
architects  capable  of  restoring  them  almost 
to  their  pristine  beauty,  a  beauty  which, 
growing  out  of  mystic  relics,  seems  fraught 
with  a  relic's  power  through  love  and  awe 
to  lead  men  on.  May  its  magic  transform 
these  Roman  Catholic  cathedrals  of  the 
Age  of  Faith  into  Holy  Catholic  churches 
of  the  Age  of  Doubt ! 

In  the  nineteenth  century  James  Rus- 
sell Lowell  wrote  a  poem  containing  some 
lovely  lines  on  the  Cathedral  of  Chartres, 
but  if  a  twentieth  century  poet  approach 
the  theme  he  will  treat  it  in  a  more  Cath- 
olic spirit,  for  the  messages  of  these  ven- 
erable fanes  must  grow  broader  and  gentler 
as  time  goes  on.  A  greater  poet  than  Lowell 
said:  "I  never  can  feel  sure  of  any  truth 
but  from  a  clear  perception  of  its  beauty." 
From  this  idea  he  framed  his  invocation 
to  beauty,  which  applies  alike  to  a  Grecian 
urn  and  to  the  Cathedral  of  Chartres: 

"Thou  shalt  remain,  in  midst  of  other  woe 
Than  ours,  a  friend*  to  man,  to  whom  thou  say'st, 
'Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beauty,' — that  is  all 
Ye  know  on  earth,  and  all  ye  need  to  know." 


*  As  our  train  passed  Chartres  an  exceedingly  coarse  conversation 
between  drummers  broke  into  a  paean  to  the  beauty  of  the  cathedral. 


[72] 


Caen  : 

An  Eleventh  Century 
Tableau 

Two  hours  from  Cherbourg,  as  the  mo- 
tor flies,  lies  the  old  town  of  Caen, 
founded  by  William  the  Conqueror. 

A  curious  peace  reigns  in  this  old  for- 
tress, with  the  drawbridge  down,  and  the 
moat  a  bower  of  trees  and  flowers:  the 
peace  of  consummated  action ;  the  returns 
are  all  in,  and  you  may  receive  them  ac- 
cording to  your  humor,  for  the  burning 
questions  of  other  days  have  faded  into 
dreamy  generalities. 

Were  all  those  wild  centuries  of  struggle 
and  warfare  vain?  Or  is  the  old  Greek 
battle-cry, "  Now  let  us  go  forward,  whether 
we  shall  give  glory  to  other  men,  or  other 
men  to  us,"  the  normal  note  of  primitive 
manhood  ?  Were  Rollo  the  Norseman  and 
William  the  Norman,  following  the  war- 
gods  fiercer  than  they,  commissioned  by 
fate  to  lead  great  armies  across  the  great 

[73] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

waters,  and,  sailing  under  sealed  orders,  to 
found  two  great  nations  and  one  great 
language  ?  Or  are  all  things  vanity  ? 

Perhaps,  after  receiving  the  children's 
children  of  his  loyal  subjects,  who  may 
have  crossed  a  certain  wide  ocean  unknown 
to  him  to  attend  the  great  Court  of  His- 
tory that  William  the  Norman  holds  at 
Caen,  the  Shades  of  the  Conqueror  grow- 
ing more  familiar  might  conduct  the  mus- 
ing cortege  into  the  beautiful  abbey  near-by, 
which  he  built  in  expiation  of  the  love- 
match  he  made  in  defiance  of  the  church. 

I  wonder  here  if  the  old  king  might  not 
laughingly  recall  the  story  of  his  first  meet- 
ing with  Lan franc. 

Like  other  forceful  men,  William  mar- 
ried upon  his  own  responsibility.  Accord- 
ingly, the  Pope  not  only  excommunicated 
him,  but  laid  various  bans  upon  his  realm. 
Such  bans  were  once  marvelously  incon- 
venient, to  say  the  least.  William  fought 
the  church  valiantly  for  six  years.  It  may 
have  been  then  that  he  got  his  measure  of 
the  uses  and  abuses  of  that  institution, 
which,  in  the  long  run,  proved  most  valu- 
able to  England.  Among  others,  Lanfranc, 
Prior  of  Bee,  became  a  target  for  William's 
displeasure  and  was  ordered  to  leave  his 

[74] 


William  the  Conqueror** 

Old  Fortress ;  the  Chains  are  said  to  be 

the  Originalt. 


Caen :  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau 

monastery.  Lanfranc  started  forth  forlornly 
enough  on  a  lame  horse.  Thus  caparisoned, 
he  met  the  furious  Duke  William.  Lanfranc 
had  but  one  weapon  at  his  command  — 
tact.  He  approached  the  great  duke,  say- 
ing, "  I  am  obeying  your  command  as 
quickly  as  I  can.  I  will  obey  faster  if  you 
will  give  me  a  better  horse."  William  was 
blessed  with  humor.  He  impressed  Lan- 
franc into  his  service  then  and  there,  and 
made  him  his  friend  forever :  the  Conqueror 
could  make  good  friends.  Then  he  sent 
Lanfranc  to  make  his  peace  with  the  Holy 
See.  Understanding  William's  passion  for 
building,  Lanfranc,  the  peacemaker,  ar- 
ranged that  William  and  Mathilda  should 
each  build  an  abbey  in  expiation  of  their 
marriage.  And  William  and  Mathilda  per- 
formed their  contract  so  royally  that  France 
has  lately  restored  their  abbeys,  line  for 
line,  as  national  monuments.*  Thus  a  tab- 
leau of  Caen,  as  the  Conqueror  saw  it,  actu- 
ally lies  before  twentieth  century  eyes. 

Ah,  put  yourself  in  his  place !  I  never 
knew  a  traveler  to  leave  this  old  town  with- 
out becoming  attached  to  its  founder.  The 


*  I  do  not  make  myself  responsible  for  the  statement  that  these 
restorations  are  photographically  exadl,  but  at  least  on  the  old  lines  it 
has  been  possible  to  eredt  perfect  examples  of  Norman  archite&ure. 


[75] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

strong,  orderly,  noble  and  logical  Norman 
buildings  express  the  old  Conqueror  at  his 
best;  at  Caen  one  prefers  his  older, gentler, 
more  unique  title  of  William,  the  builder, 
for,  indeed,  many  have  conquered  in  Eng- 
land, but  William  I  built  up  his  conquest. 

In  this  interesting  old  Norman  church, 
with  its  suspicion  of  the  pointed  arch 
(probably  the  earliest  instance)  pointing 
toward  the  unparalleled  Gothic  that  devel- 
oped in  Normandy,  one  feels  like  congrat- 
ulating the  old  Conqueror,  both  as  lover 
and  architect,  and  reinstating  his  old  claim 
to  romance,  even  though  modern  research 
has  discovered  that  he  was  not  a  very 
gentle  knight. 

William  I  was  no  saint;  but  why  should 
he  have  been  one  ?  Professional  saints  were 
only  too  common  in  his  day :  he  was  but 
a  strong,  direct  man  in  a  most  superstitious, 
childish  and  indirect  age.  Is  not  the  posi- 
tion of  one  who  can  stand  alone  through 
his  age  heroic  enough  ? 

What  a  curious  world  the  old  Conqueror 
lived  in !  A  world  of  professional  maraud- 
ers and  their  soldiers,  of  professional  saints 
and  their  serfs ;  with  a  confusion  of  fight- 
ing barons,  lay  and  ecclesiastic,  some  of  the 
most  interesting  bishops  being  no  mean 

[76] 


Caen :  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau 

warriors ;  and  worst  of  all,  a  lot  of  begging 
friars  producing  little  but  corruption.  To 
the  day  of  his  death,  the  Conqueror  makes 
no  apology  for  his  wars  in  Normandy. 
There  he  was  simply  holding  his  own. 
The  behavior  of  the  wild  and  worldly 
barons  was  not  all  he  had  to  contend  with ; 
there  were  also  the  visions  and  the  notions 
of  the  unworldly  clergy,  who,  with  intent, 
more  or  less  good,  more  or  less  self-seek- 
ing, interfered  absolutely  with  good  gov- 
ernment, and  William's  tact  and  breadth 
with  them,  considered  at  a  time  when  it  is 
easy  to  be  wise,  nearly  one  thousand  years 
after  the  event,  is  astonishing.  It  fell  to 
his  lot  to  deal  with  that  peculiarly  well-in- 
tentioned pope,  Gregory  VII,  who,  by  his 
ability  to  conceive  and  carry  out  his  well- 
intentioned  policy,  worked  such  incalcu- 
lable evil.  Spain  is  struggling  with  his 
Shades  today. 

What  a  problem  the  mystics  of  the 
eleventh  century,  with  their  tremendous 
following  and  their  curious  allegorical  in- 
terpretations of  everything  great  or  small 
in  heaven  or  on  earth,  must  have  been  to 
a  statesman !  Listen  to  this  eleventh  cen- 
tury letter  of  thanks  from  Saint  Ivo  to 
Gerard  of  Ham,  for  "  an  instrument  of  the 

[77] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

whiteness  of  snow  for  combing  the  hair." 
This  comb  is  agreeable  to  him  in  and  of 
itself,  like  other  objects  of  beauty;  but 
above  all,  it  pleases  him  because  of  the  ele- 
vation of  ideas,  which  it  so  beautifully  sym- 
bolizes :  he  is  quite  sure  that  thy  prudence 
( ta  prudence )  has  wished  hereby  to  give  a 
suggestion  to  his  vigilance  to  seek  con- 
stantly by  all  sorts  of  exhortations  to  re- 
form the  disorderly  manners  of  his  people, 
whom  he  compares  to  a  disarranged  head 
of  hair.  And  yet  Saint  Ivo  was  in  his  day  a 
strictly  practical  person,  not  to  be  fooled 
as  Savonarola  was  four  hundred  years  later 
by  the  ordeal  of  fire.  Saint  Ivo  forbids  a 
husband  to  condemn  his  wife  even  when 
the  man  he  has  accused  could  be  burned 
by  hot  irons;  and  when  the  martial  old 
bishop  of  Le  Mans,  who  is  accused  of  hav- 
ing treacherously  surrendered  that  town, 
offers  to  walk  on  hot  irons  to  prove 
his  innocence,  Saint  Ivo  writes  him  that 
ordeals  are  uncanonical  and  that  he  must 
not  submit  to  them.  But  then  no  reader 
of  his  correspondence  can  fail  to  see  that 
Saint  Ivo  was  very  timid.  How  he  did 
dread  the  Channel !  He  entreats  the  holi- 
est men  of  his  acquaintance  to  pray  un- 
ceasingly for  him  while  he  is  on  the  water. 

[78] 


Caen:  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau 

But  let  us  turn  to  the  Conqueror's  own 
review  of  his  life,  as  he  discussed  it  on  his 
death-bed.  Two  of  his  clergy  took  it  down. 
Thus,  as  he  would  speak  to  his  sons,  he 
speaks  to  history.  Here  we  have  his  per- 
plexities at  first  hand.  That  we  may  put 
ourselves  in  his  place  as  literally  as  pos- 
sible, let  us  repair  with  the  document  to 
the  beautiful  Abbey  aux  Dames,  so  ten- 
derly connected  with  the  Conqueror's 
queen.  There,  it  is  said,  she  made  her 
thank-offering  for  her  lord's  safe  deliver- 
ance, alike  from  the  perils  of  war  and  the 
perils  of  the  Channel.  This  abbey  was 
consecrated  the  year  of  the  Conquest, 
eleven  years  before  the  Abbey  aux  Hom- 
mes  (ladies  first).  Many  of  the  Conquer- 
or's followers  supplied  their  own  ships, 
but  Mathilda  herself  fitted  out  the  Con- 
queror's,—  the  regal  Mora — so  splendidly 
stocked  with  wine.  Her  good  ship  bore 
him  safely  to  England  and  victory,  and 
brought  him  back,  as  ever,  true  to  his 
queen.  To  this  abbey  they  dedicated  their 
daughter  Cicely,  when  she  was  a  child, 
and  she  became  a  great  and  powerful  ab- 
bess. Here  we  may  picture  her  praying, 
as  a  woman  in  the  intense  Age  of  Faith 
could  pray,  for  the  souls  of  her  parents. 

[79] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

Eight  hundred  and  twenty-five  years 
after  its  original  construction  we  found  an- 
other high-bred  cloistered  Lady  of  the 
Trinity  in  passionate  prayer  at  the  tomb 
of  Mathilda.  Was  this  pretty  young  nun  a 
legitimate  part  of  the  restoration  ?  Though 
the  cloisters  of  France  were  supposed  to 
have  been  abolished,  this  one  had  been 
passed  by,  for  the  Conqueror  holds  Caen, 
and  some  iron  hand  of  the  past  seems 
to  have  retained  this  spiritual  young  girl 
in  prayer  at  the  tomb  of  his  queen.  A 
strange  sight  it  was,  one  of  the  curious 
tragedies  of  conservatism ;  but  like  many 
every-day  tragedies  imperceptible  to  its 
adlors. 

To  the  eye  all  seemed  beauty.  From  a 
fine  old  garden  we  stepped  into  a  majestic 
aisle  of  a  great  abbey.  As  we  walked  down 
in  its  dim  half-light,  a  curtain  was  drawn 
displaying  a  brass  grill  impassable  in  the 
eyes  of  the  church.  Impassable  it  had  been, 
in  fa6t,  for  nearly  eight  hundred  and  fifty 
years,  but  now  to  climb  over  it  would  be  a 
minor  athletic  feat.  It  separated  the  chapel 
of  the  foundress  and  the  nuns  of  the  order 
of  the  Trinity  from  the  whole  outside 
world.  The  entire  central  space  of  this 
chapel  was  occupied  by  Queen  Mathilda's 

[80] 


Caen :  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau 

enormous  cream-colored  sarcophagus  (re- 
stored). One  might  read  the  inscription 
in  eleventh-century  characters,  fresh  from  a 
modern  chisel.  The  chapel  walls  were  lined 
with  dark,  carved  wooden  stalls,  freshly 
oiled,  and  new-born  sunbeams  peered  deco- 
rously through  rich-colored  glass  on  two 
kneeling  nuns  clad  in  the  old-time  flowing 
ivory-colored  robes  of  the  Ladies  of  the 
Trinity. 

One  was  a  fleshy,  middle-aged  woman, 
mechanically  counting  her  beads,  the  other 
was  young  and  beautiful.  She  was  looking 
up,  and,  though  she  was  as  motionless  as 
the  tomb  beside  her,  her  attitude  expressed 
action  as  sculpture  may.  What  was  she 
thinking  of?  Is  the  life  of  today  any  less 
inscrutable  than  that  of  one  thousand  years 
ago  ?  Here,  in  the  charity  of  the  church, 
let  us  consider  the  Conqueror's  apology 
( apologia ) ;  we  are  translating  the  word  too 
literally,  but  the  spirit  of  the  document  is 
humble  and  explanatory  and,  withal,  very 
winning. 

In  this  apologia  William  considers  that 
he  has  done  his  duty  to  the  church,  and 
history  endorses  him ;  in  general,  when  he 
was  at  variance  with  it  he  was  in  the  right. 
But  of  his  expedition  to  England  —  every 

[81] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

move  of  which  is  justified  upon  the  Bayeux 
Tapistry  —  he  repents,  although,  fortu- 
nately, not  fanatically  enough  to  try  and 
undo  the  deed.  He  only  makes  what  rep- 
aration he  can  to  certain  victims.  Though 
on  his  death-bed  he  liberated  Harold's 
son  and  nephew,  he  seems  to  overlook  a 
curious  persecution,  cruel  in  intent  but  eas- 
ily repaired,  that,  in  the  confidence  and  fury 
of  his  power,  he  had  directed  against  the 
soul  of  the  defeated  king.  The  Conqueror 
carried  Harold's  body  from  the  battlefield 
(he  wrapt  it  in  the  purple,  it  is  true),  but 
he  had  insisted  upon  burying  it  in  unhal- 
lowed ground,  although  for  it  Harold's 
mother  had  offered  the  weight  in  gold, — 
both  parties  firmly  believing  that  to  lie 
in  unconsecrated  ground  would  militate 
against  the  repose  of  the  spirit.  Though 
he  tried  to  undo  many  a  deed,  the  Con- 
queror ignores  entirely  his  arrogant  revenge 
upon  a  soul.  Facing  death  matures  our 
sense  of  value. 

Though  but  one  century  removed  from 
a  forebear  whose  God  was  Odin,  whose 
Valhalla  was  a  place  where  heroes  cut  each 
other  to  pieces  daily  in  fair  fight,  but  where 
the  blest  are  perpetually  restored  to  life  at 
meal-time  that  they  may  eat  of  the  wild 

[82] 


Caen :  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau 

boar  and  fight  again  and  forever,*  at  least 
the  Conqueror  came  to  shudder  at  his 
massacres  at  Hastings  and  York,  to  truly 
repent  and  to  die  humbly  commending  his 
soul  to  Mary. 

The  spirit  of  the  nineteenth  century 
was  iconoclastic;  it  demolished  alike  old 
heroes,  old  superstitions  and  old  faiths. 
But  the  twentieth  century  would  call  them 
back,  not  as  realities,  but  as  heroes,  super- 
stitions and  faiths,  treating  them  philo- 
sophically, as  great  moving  forces,  or  poeti- 
cally, as  starting  points  for  new  ideals.  The 
hard,  rational  doubt  which  emancipated 
thought  in  the  nineteenth  century  develops 
into  the  sympathetic  doubt  of  the  twen- 
tieth. The  nineteenth  century  laughed  at 
barbaric  old  heroes,  while  the  twentieth 
century  smiles  at  them.  Who  wants  to 
live  in  a  world  without  heroes?  All  men 
are  not  equal ;  but  by  reverent  appreciation 
the  small  man  may  become  brother  to  the 
genius. 

Every  place,  every  document  connected 
with  the  Conqueror  bears  his  strong  indi- 
viduality. Read  of  him  where  you  may, 
between  the  lines  of  the  Domesday  Book 

*  The  gentler  element  in  Norse  mythology  enters  into  it  long  after 
the  eleventh  century  and  is  probably  a  refledlion  from  Christianity. 

[83] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

(that  conscientious  effort  to  tax  all  that 
the  traffic  will  bear),  or  in  the  broken  lays 
of  the  troubadours,  or  by  the  light  or  the 
density  of  contemporary  chroniclers,  Nor- 
man or  Saxon,  you  find  before  you  a  man 
great  in  himself  and  a  forerunner  of  greater 
things:  a  great  builder,  building  better 
than  he  knew ;  a  great  ruler,  ruling  farther 
than  he  knew — a  true  hero  of  the  strenu- 
ous life. 

Following  the  chance  records  from  which 
the  Conqueror's  biography  is  put  together, 
one  is  amazed  by  the  integrity  of  his  po- 
litical instinct.  William  the  Norman  is  an 
instance  for  the  poet  who  said,  "The  world 
is  what  a  few  great  men  have  made  it." 
The  Conqueror  seems  such  a  typical  Eng- 
lishman, alike  in  his  love  of  the  forests  and 
the  "  high  deer,"  of  which  the  old  Saxon 
chronicler  complains,  and  in  his  apprecia- 
tion of  justice  and  stability,  for  which  the 
same  chronicler  gives  thanks  on  the  spot. 
The  Conqueror's  appeal  is  a  very  wide 
one.  Even  the  economists,  who  hold  that 
the  world  is  what  demand  and  supply  have 
made  it,  write  with  an  enthusiasm  peculiarly 
their  own  of  the  Domesday  Book  and  its 
wisely  self-seeking,  avaricious  author. 

It  cannot  be  argued  that  the  Conqueror 

[84] 


Caen :  An  Eleventh  Century  Tableau 

was  a  popular  king,  but  sinners,  like  saints, 
may  be  proven  by  their  influence  after 
death  —  the  Conqueror's  was  strong  and 
manly.  His  spirit  entered  widely  into  me- 
diaeval legend.  He  is  the  Arthur,  the  ideal 
ruler,  whom  Malory  commends  for  manly 
purity,  justice  and  probity;  also  for  "open 
manslaughter."  We  may  take  Malory's 
word  for  it,  it  was  better  than  the  savage 
treachery  known  even  four  hundred  years 
later,  when  that  old  raconteur  was  mixing 
probabilities,  improbabilities  and  impossi- 
bilities so  picturesquely,  and  we  have  our 
old  hero  back.  Although  we  must  alter 
Malory's  ideal,  we  can  add  to  it  as  well  as 
subtract  from  it.  We  have  the  splendid 
barbarian  who  brought  order  out  of  chaos 
both  in  England  and  Normandy,  who  loved 
and  trusted  his  wife,  who  loved  nature  and 
had  an  instinct  for  art,  whose  intelligent 
attitude  toward  religion  and  learning  left 
the  Dark  Ages  behind,  and  whose  loyal 
leadership  opened  the  romantic  days  of 
chivalry. 

Near  Caen  is  a  lovelier  town,  "  Dinan, 
where  the  Conqueror  slept."  Here  his- 
tory's scroll  seems  to  loosen,  displaying  an 
enchanting  pastoral  of  the  ages ;  there  lies 
the  simple,  old  hamlet  by  the  river,  just  as 

[85] 


Flowers  From  MfJurual  History 

it  might  have  looked  when  William  the 
Norman  and  Harold,  son  of  Goodwin, 
camped  there  together,  a  little  less  than  one 
thousand  years  ago.  Then,  back  of  the 
river  on  the  bluff,  later  a  securely  walled 
town  appeared,  but  now  the  old  fortifica- 
tions have  turned  into  charming  parks 
and  playgrounds,  girding  the  loveliest  of 
French  villages;  and  on  a  summer  day  in 
fair  France  one  can  feel  sure  that  though 
much  of  life  is  at  cross-purposes,  all  is  not 
vanity:  old  moats  may  make  the  loveliest 
of  gardens;  old  warriors,  the  gentlest  of 
heroes. 


[86] 


The 

Grandniece  of  the  Grand 
Inquisitor 

I  have  a  fair  daughter  formed  like  a 
golden  flower. —  Sappho. 

THE  Spanish  Inquisitor  is  one  character 
of  the  past  who  has  been  spared  the 
mockish  attentions  of  writers  of  historical 
romance.  But  he,  too,  has  suffered  from 
the  on  dit  of  history,  history  as  she  is 
taught.  However,  he  had  his  day.  Once 
as  the  impersonation  of  "correct  senti- 
ment," he  dealt  his  decrees  from  a  palace 
and  had  the  double  honor  of  representing 
Church  as  well  as  State.  As  times  grew 
gentler,  the  Inquisition  was  directed  against 
books  rather  than  men.  Now,  certainly, 
something  may  be  accorded  to  those  who 
dispose  of  polemic  literature,  even  though 
they  be  as  innocent  as  earthworms  of  their 
ultimate  use  to  humanity ;  therefore,  let  us 
try  to  look  upon  the  Grand  Inquisitor, 
Miguel  de  Carpio,  as  a  Spanish  gentleman 

[87] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

of  an  exceedingly  old  school  —  as  a  man 
perhaps  much  less  bloodthirsty  than  some 
of  the  good  and  perfect  knights,  though 
abominably  technical  regarding  certain 
points.  As  theatre-goers  we  are  in  the 
gentleman's  debt,  for  it  was  he  who  edu- 
cated his  nephew,  Lope  de  Vega  de  Carpio, 
who  in  his  turn  was  a  positive  factor  in  the 
development  of  the  modern  drama. 

Lope  Felix  de  Vega  de  Carpio  was  of  a 
mental  mixture  that  has  more  than  passed 
away ;  it  has  been  relegated  to  the  incom- 
prehensible,—  at  once  a  graceful  poet  and 
a  soldier,  a  past  master  of  euphuism  and  a 
coarse  dramatist;  an  officer  of  the  Church ; 
"a  servant  of  the  Inquisition"  or  a  "fa- 
miliar of  the  holy  office,"  as  he  fluently 
termed  it  (an  honorary  escort  of  the  victim 
to  the  stake);  finally,  chaplain  of  the  mo- 
nastic order  into  which  he  retired;  and, 
unquestionably,  the  most  voluminous  of 
writers. 

But  his  most  poetic  gift  to  the  world 
was  his  love-child,  Sister  Marcela  de  Felix 
of  the  Convent  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Trin- 
ity at  Alcala.  Of  all  his  children,  legiti- 
mate or  illegitimate,  this  daughter,  by  the 
lady  who  inspired  the  best  of  his  sonnets, 
was  to  him  dearest.  He  takes  little  Mar- 

[88] 


The  Grandnlece  of  the  Grand  Inquisitor 

cela  to  live  with  him  as  soon  as  ever  his 
wife  dies,  and  dedicates  a  drama  to  the 
little  girl ;  so  does  another  poet.  She  seems 
to  be  her  father's  comrade,  for  when  she 
is  only  eleven  years  old  he  uses  her  to  get 
back  some  letters  that  he  has  written  to 
one  of  his  various  mistresses;  but  when  a 
relative  of  the  husband  of  this  mistress 
makes  improper  overtures  to  Little  Mar- 
cela,  Lope  de  Vega  rises  like  a  man  "in 
spite  of  his  age  and  holy  orders,"  and 
chastises  the  villain. 

At  sixteen,  to  the  little  maid  comes  a 
craving  for  an  exalted  purity,  a  reaction  of 
her  beautiful  soul  from  its  coarse,  immoral 
surroundings.  Being  a  woman,  her  ideal 
also  calls  for  a  lover,  but  he  must  be  pure 
and  more  beautiful  than  any  one  she  has 
ever  known,  and  he  must  love  her  as  she 
will  him, "better  than  life."  It  is  the  Age  of 
Faith.  Her  bridegroom  awaits;  she  leaves 
her  father  to  join  him. 

Of  course,  there  are  braver,  fuller,  hap- 
pier lives  than  a  nun's,  and  there  always 
have  been.  But  during  the  Age  of  Faith, 
in  a  religious  house,  there  was  always  a 
haven  of  rest  for  the  idealist,  while  now  it 
sometimes  seems  he  has  not  where  to  lay 
his  head. 

[89] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

It  was  not  in  the  Middle  Ages  that  the 
king  said,  "  If  poets  will  be  poets,  why,  let 
them  starve."  Then,  on  the  contrary,  the 
public  fed  a  vagabond  population  of  vaga- 
bond singers  who  sang  a  certain  grace  into 
the  Romance  languages ;  for  the  devotees 
of  various  abstractions  there  was  the  refuge 
of  holy  orders.  After  taking  up  the  re- 
ligious life,  if  they  had  force  enough  to 
arrange  the  conditions  around  them  to  fit 
their  desires,  they  might  safely  follow  their 
various  bents,  for  good  or  ill,  undisturbed 
by  care  for  the  future,  their  bodies  being 
insured  against  want,  their  souls  against 
punishment.  In  Spain,  particularly,  really 
great  men  and  successful  ones  continued 
to  take  holy  orders  even  up  to  the  eight- 
eenth century. 

In  his  prime,  Calderon  exchanged  the 
position  of  superintendent  of  the  royal 
theatre  for  royal  chaplain,  but  after  a  few 
qualms  on  the  point  he  continued  to  write 
plays  on  much  the  same  order  as  before, 
only  they  were  performed  by  priests.  Since 
Calderon  was  really  orthodox  the  arrange- 
ment seems  natural  enough;  as  a  play- 
wright he  had  baffled  with  the  public  till 
he  was  fifty-one  years  old ;  in  the  church 
at  least  he  was  relieved  from  the  dictates 


The  Grandnieceofthe  Grand  Inquisitor 

of  public  tastes.  There  it  was  that  he  prob- 
ably wrote  his  beautiful "  Magic  Magician." 

I  am  not  a  Ruskinite.  I  would  not,  if 
I  conveniently  could,  domesticate  the  thir- 
teenth century  in  the  nineteenth ;  but  I  do 
believe  in  a  sympathetic  attitude  toward 
history,  as  toward  present  life,  and  for  the 
same  reasons  I  would  not  turn  the  light 
of  the  twentieth  century  in  upon  the  gloom 
of  the  sixteenth,  with  the  idea  of  getting 
a  clear  picture.  I  for  one  do  not  feel  that 
a  convent  was  the  saddest  place  for  Sister 
Marcela.  That  power  which  decrees  the 
fall  of  nations  had  its  hand  upon  Spain. 
Wars,  the  Americas,  the  religious  houses 
and  the  Inquisition,  had  fed  on  the  flower 
of  the  nation  too  long.  The  times  were 
out  of  joint.  It  seemed  beautiful  to  little 
Marcela  to  lose  such  a  world  and  gain  a 
soul.  Being  a  poet,  the  heroic  side  of  the 
church  appealed  to  her;  in  her  intensity 
she  joined  the  barefooted  order  of  the 
Trinity.  How  did  her  father  part  from 
her?  He  was  a  poet,  too  —  did  he  give 
her  up  with  holy  joy  and  homely  sorrow  ? 

In  his  way,  Lope  de  Vega  was  a  really 
religious  man,  for  he  lived  in  close  touch 
with  his  God  —  the  literal,  limited,  jealous 
god  of  a  fanatic,  it  is  true.  Would  you  see 

[91] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

its  exact  image,  as  shown  on  the  Market 
Place?  Then  read  "The  Marriage  of  the 
Soul  to  Divine  Love,"  a  broadly  realistic 
drama,  in  which  Lope  de  Vega  supposes 
the  bridegroom  to  be  the  Savior.  It  was 
acted  on  the  great  Square  of  Valencia  on 
the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  Philip  III, 
the  dramatist  himself  being  the  clown  in 
the  cast. 

But,  too,  this  vulgar  "familiar  of  the 
holy  office  "  can  be  tender.  Listen  to  these 
lines,  dedicated  to  his  little  dead  son:  — 

'«  Holy  angels  and  blest, 

Through  these  palms  as  ye  sweep, 
Hold  their  branches  at  rest, 
For  my  babe  is  asleep. 

"And  ye  Bethlehem  palm  trees, 

As  stormy  winds  rush 
In  tempest  and  fury, 

Your  angry  noise  hush  ;  — 
Move  gently,  move  gently, 

Restrain  your  wild  sweep  ; 
Hold  your  branches  at  rest, — 

My  babe  is  asleep. 

'*  My  babe  all  divine, 

With  earth's  sorrows  oppressed, 
Seeks  in  slumber  an  instant 

His  grieving  to  rest ; 
He  slumbers, — he  slumbers, — 

[92] 


The  Grandniece  of  the  Grand  Inquisitor 

Oh  hush,  then,  and  keep 
Your  branches  all  still, — 
My  babe  is  asleep  ! 

"  Cold  blasts  wheel  about  him, — 

A  rigorous  storm, — 
And  ye  see  how,  in  vain, 

I  would  shelter  his  form; — 
Holy  angels  and  blest, 

As  above  me  ye  sweep, 
Hold  these  branches  at  rest, — 

My  babe  is  asleep  ! ' ' 

What  did  he  whisper  to  this  living  child 
as  she  parted  from  him  ?  "  Heard  melodies 
are  sweet;  but  those  unheard  are  sweeter." 

When,  in  the  confident  phrase  of  her 
father,  Marcela  de  Carpio  "  espoused  the 
eldest  son  of  God,"  her  mystic  nuptials 
called  forth  the  truest  "song-feast"  ever 
held.  The  herald  of  old  might  bid  the 
poets  appear  and  compete  for  a  monarch's 
pleasure.  Order  a  tournament  of  song,  in- 
deed! Mahomet  was  profound  enough  to 
go  to  the  mountain.  When  the  beautiful 
love-child  of  Lope  de  Vega  and  Micaela 
de  Luzan  took  the  veil,  the  ceremony  was 
graced  by  all  the  dignity  and  circumstance 
which  the  Church  could  lavish  in  outward 
expression  of  the  passion  and  fervor  of  the 
forceful  old  days  of  her  power. 

[93] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

All  the  poets  of  the  day,  great  and  small, 
seemed  to  have  been  summoned  to  this 
marriage  feast,  and  all  the  poets  of  the  day, 
great  and  small,  vainly  tried  to  transcribe 
the  living  poem  their  eyes  beheld  when 
that  fair  bride  of  Christ  passed  before  them 
in  a  transport  of  ecstasy. 

At  that  time  many  great  ladies  were 
taking  the  veil  with  equal  pomp  and  state, 
but  no  such  tribute  was  paid  them.  What 
an  absolutely  inexplicable  power  is  person- 
ality!  Marcela  de  Carpio  never  published 
a  line,  and  at  this  time  had  probably  never 
written  one.  How  did  these  minor  poets 
recognize  this  fair  daughter  of  Sappho? 
Was  she  "formed  like  a  golden  flower"? 
What  a  wonderful  people  are  poets !  But 
listen,  for  Sister  Marcela's  bridal  song  is 
with  us  yet,  she  pipes  so  clear  and  sweet: 

I. 

"  Let  them  say  to  my  lover 

That  here  I  lie  ! 
The  thing  of  his  pleasure, 
His  slave  am  I. 

II. 


Say  that  I  seek  him 

Only  for  love, 
And  welcome  are  tortures 

My  passion  to  prove. 


[94] 


The  Grandnieceofthe  Grand  Inquisitor 
III. 

"  Love  giving  gifts 

Is  suspicious  and  cold ; 
I  have  all,  my  Beloved, 
When  Thee  I  hold. 

IV. 
"  Hope  and  devotion 

The  good  may  gain, 
I  am  but  worthy 

Of  passion  and  pain. 

V. 

"So  noble  a  Lord 

None  serves  in  vain  — 
For  the  pay  of  my  love 
Is  my  love's  sweet  pain. 

VI. 
"I  love  thee,  to  love  thee, 

No  more  I  desire  ; 
By  faith  is  nourished 
My  love's  strong  fire. 

VII. 

"I  kiss  Thy  hands 

When  I  feel  their  blows ; 
In  place  of  caresses 
Thou  givest  me  woes. 

VIII. 
"But  in  Thy  chastening 

Is  joy  and  peace  ; 
O  Master  and  Love, 

Let  not  Thy  blows  cease  ! 


[95] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 
IX. 

"  Thy  beauty,  Beloved, 
With  scorn  is  rife  ! 
But  I  know  that  Thou  lovest  me 
Better  than  life. 

X. 

"And  because  Thou  lovest  me, 

Lover  of  mine, 
Death  can  but  make  me 
Utterly  Thine. 

XI. 
"I  die  with  longing 

Thy  face  to  see  ; 
Ah,  sweet  is  the  anguish 
Of  Death  tome!" 

MarceladeCarpio  retired  from  the  world 
in  1 62 1 .  It  was  not  till  1870  that  the  ladies 
of  the  Convent  of  the  Trinity  at  Alcala 
called  the  attention  of  the  director  of  the 
Spanish  Academy  to  a  manuscript  so  dear 
to  that  sisterhood, —  the  love-songs  of  a 
nun,  the  poems  of  Sister  Marcela  de  Felix. 
Such  a  delay  in  publication  would  be  disas- 
trous to  a  worldling  of  the  pen,  but  oblivion 
cannot  bury  a  soul.  Besides,  Sister  Marcela 
was  dreaming  of  heaven,  not  of  print ;  her 
thought  incidentally  overflows  and  she  in- 
herited her  father's  facility  with  the  pen. 

Thus,  from  the  depths  of  the  old  cloister 

[96] 


The  Grandnieceofthe  Grand  Inquisitor 

swells  a  love-song  so  clear  and  sweet,  so 
humanly  divine  that  it  almost  reconciles 
the  ages.  The  times  were  out  of  joint  in 
Spain,  but  I  am  glad  that  this  mystical 
daughter  of  Sappho  was  not  ordained,  like 
poor  little  Charlotte  Corday,  another  ideal- 
ist, with  the  blood  of  a  great  poet  in  her 
veins,  to  try  to  set  them  right.  I  am  glad 
that  the  doors  of  the  convent  were  open  to 
this  spiritual  young  dreamer  of  beautiful 
dreams,  who  sings  the  "  Swan  Song  of  the 
Age  of  Faith."  You  say  the  convent  doors 
are  open  yet;  yes,  but  in  another  way — 
perhaps  a  better  way.  Women  enter  to 
dedicate  a  broken  life  to  all  that  is  good. 
The  peace  is  there,  but  the  rapture  is  no 
more.  We  "  cannot  sing  the  old  songs  now 
nor  dream  those  dreams  again." 

No  woman  is  fairer  to  muse  upon  than 
Marcela  de  Carpio.  We  get  out  of  life 
what  we  put  into  it.  From  the  repose  of 
the  cloister  Sister  Marcela  contributes  a 
dream.  She  is  the  poetess  of  the  passionate 
reverence  of  the  Age  of  Faith.  In  her 
verse  "the  tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is 
dead"  is  immortal.  We  must  never  for  a 
moment  overlook  a  Spanish  lady's  pedi- 
gree. Senorita  Marcela  de  Carpio  was  the 
grandniece  of  a  Grand  Inquisitor  of  Spain. 

[97] 


A 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old, 
Old  Books 

BIBLIOPHILE  is  expected  to  enter  with 
an  apology, —  he  is  generally  called  a 
bibliomaniac,  but  let  your  foreboded  hom- 
age check  your  tongue ;  remember,  if  you 
prefer  your  mother's  Bible  to  the  one  left 
by  the  tract:  society,  or  the  one  left  by 
the  tract  society  to  your  mother's  (biblio- 
philes are  liable  to  any  preference),  you 
are  open  to  the  infection  and  the  mania  is 
incurable. 

But  do  not  books  become  ours  by  what 
we,  individually,  get  from  them  ?  What 
does  it  matter  whether  it  lies  in  the  cover 
or  the  text  or  between  the  lines?  "Piece 
out  our  imperfection  with  your  thought," 
implores  the  greatest  poet.  Though  it  is 
dwelt  upon  with  some  truth  that  biblio- 
philes do  not  read  their  books  (must  we 
therefore  infer  that  other  people  have  the 
contents  of  their  libraries  at  their  tongue's 
ends),  they  have  their  own  attitude  toward 

[98] 


them  —  an  attitude  which  has  proved  of 
the  profoundest  service  to  letters. 

The  professional  critic  enters  the  library 
in  state,  receiving  and  dismissing  new  books 
with  sovereign  assurance :  so  uniformly  has 
he  erred  that  the  dictum  has  gone  forth 
that  no  age  can  pass  on  its  writers. 

The  gentle  reader  enters  the  library 
modestly;  although  he  may  read  the  new 
books  that  perish,  he  does  not  neglect  the 
new  books  that  live,  as  any  one  who  makes 
a  study  of  editions  will  discover;  he  buys 
the  good  works  of  his  own  day.  The  pub- 
lisher of  the  first  edition  of  Shakespeare 
remarked  that  purchase  "best  commends 
a  book,"  on  the  strength  of  which  idea  he 
collected  the  stray  plays  of  the  Bard  of  the 
Avon.  The  preface  which  he  wrote  for 
his  edition  stands  forth  as  the  modest  ad- 
vertisement of  history ;  but  absurdly  con- 
descending as  it  is,  it  shows  that  he  fore- 
saw a  good,  immediate  sale ;  also  that  he 
foresaw  no  farther. 

The  bibliophile  enters  the  library  ab- 
stractedly, there  to  muse  upon  volumes 
true  and  tried;  and  through  the  ages  his 
reverent,  disinterested  spirit  has  builded 
better  than  it  knew.  Indeed,  it  alone  tided 
books  across  the  Dark  Ages;  for  even 

[99] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

when  they  could  not  read,  some  there  were 
who  had  wit  enough  to  appreciate  letters 
in  the  abstract.  Contrast  their  attitude  with 
that  of  the  executive  Caliph  Omar,  who 
burned  a  great  library  at  Alexandria  in  635, 
declaring  that  if  the  books  were  orthodox 
(Mohammedan  orthodoxy,  of  course)  they 
were  unnecessary;  if  heterodox,  pernicious. 
That  is  what  it  means  to  have  mere  prac- 
tical people  around  among  books. 

I  can  conceive  of  no  human  relic  more 
touching  than  a  Bible  copied  with  con- 
scientious care  during  this  unsympathetic 
era.  Hence  the  Book  of  Kells,*  which  is 
destitute  of  one  touch  of  the  native  artist, 
however  immature,  is  often  spoken  of  as 
the  most  beautiful  book  in  the  world. 
It  is  supposed  to  have  been  executed  about 
the  eighth  century,  since  its  illuminators 
had  advanced  from  the  mere  red  capitals 
adorned  with  twisted  dragons  to  pictures 
relating  to  the  text.  The  symbols  of  the 
apostles,  especially  the  bird-like  lion  of 
Saint  Mark,  appear  repeatedly  on  the  mar- 
gins; also,  there  is  a  representation  of  Saint 
Matthew  with  hands  growing  from  his 
shoulders,  holding  up  to  the  world  two 

*  Property  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 

[100] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

copies  of"  The  Book."  Among  its  illustra- 
tions are  the  Arrest  of  Jesus,  the  Agony 
of  the  Garden,  and,  most  interesting  of  all, 
four  angels  and  a  Virgin  and  Child  appear 
on  the  old  pages,  for,  crude  as  these  figures 
are,  they  may  be  reckoned  among  the 
direct  ancestors  of  those  beautiful  Holy 
Families  born  on  Italian  and  Flemish  can- 
vases eight  or  nine  hundred  years  later, 
whose  sweet  faces  still  sway  the  world. 

Christian  art  began  as  illustration  on 
the  pages  of  holy  books,  and  as  illustration 
it  expanded  onto  wood  and  canvas,  bronze 
and  marble.  The  peculiar  grace  of  picto- 
rial art  crept  into  it  incidentally,  by  acci- 
dent of  genius.  That  famous  Giotto  of  the 
Louvre  showing  "  Saint  Francis  receiving 
the  Stigmata"  is  simply  a  direct  explanation 
of  the  subject,  far  more  beautiful  in  idea 
than  in  execution.  There  are  the  figures 
of  Jesus  and  of  Saint  Francis;  Christ  is 
flying  toward  "the  most  Christ-like  of 
men,"  and  gilt  lines  from  every  wound  in 
our  Savior  piercing  Saint  Francis  in  the 
same  parts  of  the  body  bind  that  sympa- 
thetic saint  to  his  Redeemer,  while  un- 
known to  the  holy  brother  a  halo  appears 
back  of  his  head. 

This  idea  of  illustration  made  beautiful 

[10!] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

that  it  might  be  worthy  of  the  subject  which 
it  treated,  that  arose  in  the  old  scriptoriums, 
reached  its  perfection  on  Ghiberti's  doors 
to  the  Baptistry  at  Florence.  Michael  An- 
gelo  called  them  the  Gates  of  Paradise. 
Illuminated  books  of  a  later  date  display 
equally  noble,  artistic  connections.  I  have 
seen  little  Madonnas  in  Books  of  Hours 
in  the  British  Museum  that  seem  like  im- 
perfect copies  of  Raphael,  whereas  they 
precede  him  by  nearly  a  century. 

Mediaeval  story  is  full  of  the  visits  of 
angels  to  despairing  illuminators  and  scribes 
who  found  themselves  unable  to  execute 
books  worthy  in  their  material  beauty  to 
convey  the  word  of  God.  Our  Lady  her- 
self sometimes  came  down  to  console  them. 
Did  forecasts  of  the  beautiful  pictures  yet 
to  come  sometimes  appear  to  the  humble 
dreamers  of  the  cloister  as  they  worked 
away  on  the  margins  of  holy  books?  Not 
literally,  of  course,  for  taste  was  too  crude 
to  conceive  of  a  developed  art.  But  may 
not  some  old  artist  have  conceived  in  his 
cell  of  a  pictured  Madonna,  so  beautiful 
that  pilgrims  came  from  afar  to  do  her 
honor,  so  sweet  that  she  could  uplift  them 
from  sin?  And  perhaps  the  soul  of  that 
humble  old  scribe  finds  its  paradise  in  the 

[102] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

better  part  of  some  inscrutable  genius  whose 
Madonnas  perpetually  uplift  the  world, 
for  the  soul  of  a  saint  is  active  forever. 

But  from  the  vantage-ground  of  the  Old 
Book  of  Kells  it  is  as  pretty  to  look  back- 
ward as  to  look  forward,  so  sweetly  does 
it  recall  a  certain  monastery  on  the  Island 
of  lona  which  casts  its  ray  in  history  like 
a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world.  This  old 
book  speaks  eloquently  of  the  lonely  Irish 
cloisters  where,  in  perhaps  the  darkest 
hour  of  written  history,  the  seeds  of  occi- 
dental civilization  were  laid  away  until  a 
more  favorable  season  dawned  in  which  to 
sow  them  broadcast. 

About  a  hundred  years  after  the  blessed 
Saint  Patrick  converted  Ireland,  in  which 
time  many  had  fallen  from  grace,  Saint 
Columba  appeared  on  the  scene,  made  a 
second  conversion  of  that  region  and  found- 
ed the  old  Scotch  Kirk  (very  indirectly ). 
When  Saint  Columba  appealed  to  the  canny 
Scots  and  the  thrifty  northern  Irishmen 
for  a  situation  for  his  monastery,they  hos- 
pitably turned  over  to  his  use  the  rocky 
Island  of  lona.  Though  agriculturally  it 
was  not  much,  through  long  ages  it  had 
borne  the  fruits  of  the  spirit  until  even  its 
stones  did  duty  as  amulets.  In  its  bosom 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

slept  the  Scottish  kings,  King  Macbeth 
being  the  last  of  the  royal  line  to  lie  there, 
lona  was  hallowed  ground  to  the  Druid, 
and  is,  to  this  day,  a  haven  of  superstition. 
There  Saint  Columba,  the  scribe,  located 
his  lonely  monastery  wherein  books  were 
made,  wondrous  in  their  day  and  genera- 
tion, and  there  or  at  some  Columbian  mon- 
astery in  the  neighborhood,  perhaps  at 
Kells,  the  Book  of  Kells  was  executed. 

One  of  its  big  pages,  which  is  covered 
by  a  great  cross  wherein  eight  circles  are 
incorporated  in  a  network  of  infinitely  in- 
volved interlacements,  especially  illustrates 
one  phase  of  early  art — its  reverent  pa- 
tience. Study  that  cross  as  you  may  you 
will  find  no  false  line,  no  irregular  inter- 
lacement, for  all  this  was  done  in  the  olden 
time  when  the  ways  of  holy  men  were 
made  so  clear  unto  them.  That  none  might 
disturb  the  holy  calm  of  the  silent  scribes 
as  they  multiplied  the  precious  "Word" 
Saint  Jerome  had  taken  down  from  the 
direct  dictation  of  the  angels,  a  code  of 
signs  was  in  use  in  the  scriptoriums  of  the 
monasteries.  The  sign  of  the  cross  indi- 
cated a  missal,  the  sign  of  the  crown,  King 
David's  psalms,  while  a  contemptuous 
scratching  of  the  ear,  in  the  manner  of  a 

[104] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

dog,  was  an  order  for  a  mere  pagan  volume ; 
for  then  "the  world  was  very  wicked,"  as 
the  good  monks  droned ;  or  at  least  very 
rude,  cruel,  lazy  and  barbarous,  as  history 
affirms,  and  gentle  spirits  were  only  too 
prone  to  recoil  from  it. 

The  early  Christians  in  general  were 
filled  with  contempt  for  this  life  and  proud 
certainty  of  reward  in  the  next:  those 
whose  practice  was  no  higher  than  their 
theory  withdrew  from  the  world  to  secure 
to  themselves  particularly  high  seats  in 
heaven.  The  composite  story  of  their  lives 
emphasizes  the  barrenness  of  the  scoffer, 
the  futility  of  the  contemptuous.  But  the 
story  of  the  scribe,  though  he  may  have 
seen  through  the  glass  just  as  darkly  as 
the  anchorite  did,  is  the  living  story  of 
Christian  brotherhood. 

One  of  the  first  of  these  scribes,  old  Cas- 
siodorus  of  Ravenna,  writes:  "All  who  sing 
form  but  a  single  voice,  and  we  may  mingle 
our  notes  with  those  of  the  angels,  though 
we  may  not  hear  them."  I  am  sure  that 
was  the  sentiment  which  finally  turned  this 
old  statesman  from  the  world,  even  though 
he  did  not  retire  till  after  the  death  of 
Theodoric,  his  patron.  Perhaps  the  career 
of  a  statesman  prepared  him  to  be  a  states- 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

man  of  the  world  of  letters ;  at  any  rate, 
when  he  repaired  to  the  cloister  he  gath- 
ered together,  according  to  his  lights,  the 
best  books  of  his  world,  and  especially  en- 
joined upon  the  monks  the  noble  duty  of 
multiplying  them. 

All  this  was  some  hundred  years  before 
Saint  Columba's  time,  but  angel  voices 
carry,  and  I  do  believe  in  their  highest 
moments  the  ignorant,  undeveloped  scribes 
of  the  old  Irish  monasteries  vaguely  echoed 
ideals  like  those  of  Cassiodorus. 

These  scribes  came  to  feel  a  certain  own- 
ership in  the  great  Bibles  on  which  they 
worked.  At  the  end  of  each  section  of  the 
old  Book  of  Durrow  its  scribe  smuggled 
in  his  petition  that  all  who  take  the  book 
in  hand  might  pray  for  him.  I  have  known 
a  merry  old  scribe  to  insert  a  jingle  in  very 
bad  Latin  at  the  end  of  a  chapter,  indicat- 
ing that  after  so  much  good  work  he  should 
be  rewarded  with  a  drink.  The  jolly  old 
monk  has  always  appealed  to  me  most  un- 
reasonably. 

Within  the  century  of  the  making  of  the 
old  Book  of  Kells  in  Ireland,  stirring  old 
Charlemagne  brought  a  semblance  of  order 
to  the  land  of  the  Gaul  and  the  Frank  and, 
"that  requests  should  not  be  made  to  God 

[106] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

in  bad  language,"  he  regulated  copists  and 
reproductions  by  law;  he  ordered  holy 
books  elaborately  adorned,  and  collected, 
to  the  best  of  his  ability,  artists  for  that 
purpose,  thereby  leaving  his  mark  on  the 
books  of  his  time  and  of  some  generations 
following,  which  are  technically  known  as 
Carlovingians.  Indeed,  as  a  bibliophile 
Charlemagne  shows  the  most  charming 
side  of  his  character.  In  his  enthusiasm  he 
went  to  work  and  learned  to  read,  but  he 
never  could  succeed  in  learning  to  write. 
As  might  be  expected,  Carlovingians  are 
mechanically  decorated.  They  show  By- 
zantine importation  rather  than  the  loving 
development  of  an  early  and  original  art. 
We  still  have  a  couple  of  pages  of  the 
Amiens  copy  of  a  work  written  by  the  Ab- 
bot of  Fulda  during  Charlemagne's  reign. 
One  page  is  covered  by  a  lone  figure,  with- 
out ground  or  background,  of  Louis  the 
Pious  with  text  printed  all  over  it.  ( Not 
that  in  the  Dark  Ages  anybody  read  be- 
tween the  lines;  that  they  failed  to  do  so 
was  their  greatest  difficulty.)  Then  other 
Carlovingians  are  examples  of  the  dyers' 
art,  being  written  in  gold  on  purple  vellum, 
like  the  "Golden  Gospels"  which  one 
thousand  one  hundred  years  later  proved 

[107] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

such  an  excellent  speculation  on  Wall 
street.  But  that  is  unquestionably  "an- 
other story." 

There  is  a  certain  book  in  the  Bodleian 
not  quite  so  old  which  I  should  value 
more  highly.  With  considerably  more  evi- 
dence than  usual  in  such  cases,  it  is  identi- 
fied as  the  book  of  mass  of  Queen  Mar- 
garet of  Scotland.  I  wonder  if  the  lovely 
Saxon  princess  had  it  with  her  when  she 
fled  to  Scotland  after  the  Norman  Con- 
quest to  implore  the  protection  of  Mai- 
comb  Canmore  who  made  her  his  Queen  ? 
But,  better  still,  his  people  afterwards  made 
her  their  patron  saint,  realizing  that  she 
had  done  more  to  refine  them  than  any 
other  early  ruler.  Tradition  tells  how  the 
King,  though  he  could  not  read,  loved  to 
handle  the  Queen's  precious  books  —  per- 
haps he  gave  this  little  volume  adorned 
with  gold  and  jewels  to  the  lady  of  his 
reverent  love. 

The  thirteenth  century  has  great  at- 
tractions for  a  bibliophile.  Never  were  the 
embellishments  on  books  more  liberal  and 
amusing.  Nowadays  illuminators  consider 
the  fitness  of  things,  but  in  the  thirteenth 
century  they  just  designed.  I  know  of  a 
most  charming  psalter  of  the  late  thirteenth 

[108] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

century  with  the  capitals  filled  with  the 
spirited  knights  and  the  margins  with  all- 
colored  dragons  whose  attenuated  tails 
form  circles,  sometimes  not  more  than  an 
eighth  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  that  separate 
tiny  butting  goats  or  strutting  cocks,  or 
Darwinian  monkeys  or  other  irrelevant 
matter  from  the  text. 

Did  these  dragons  creep  in  from  the 
Norse  mythologies,  I  wonder,  or  were  they 
just  creatures  of  adaptive  anatomy  for  dec- 
orative purposes  ?  The  early  illuminators 
did  not  turn  to  nature;  simple  people 
never  do.  This  illustrator's  mind  certainly 
wandered;  whether  it  started  with  the 
psalms  I  cannot  determine,  but  he  displays 
two  tiny  gilded  stops  one-eighth  of  an  inch 
by  two  inches  that  the  seriously  inclined 
might  take  as  sermons.  One  represents  a 
jester,  with  cap  and  bells  and  wand,  and 
little  other  raiment,  successfully  charging 
a  fully  armed  knight ;  and  the  other,  Ve- 
nus, attended  by  a  blue  dragon,  pursuing 
a  cross  between  a  man  and  a  devil. 

The  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  century  il- 
luminators and  illustrators  begin  to  think: 

o 

indeed,  they  are  among  the  best  historians 
we  find  of  that  period :  modern  illustration 
is  fast  returning  to  their  methods. 

[109] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

At  the  commencement  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  miniatures  of  the  noble  owners  of 
elaborate  volumes  began  to  be  inserted  in 
their  books.  Thus  a  consecutive  history 
of  two  hundred  years  of  French  portraiture 
is  safely  folded  away  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale,  where  we  may  watch  the  stiff 
early  miniatures  gradually  develop  into 
charming  little  genre  pictures.  Though  the 
consideration  of  atmosphere  was  passed 
over  at  that  time,  many  of  them  are  models 
of  composition. 

Some  of  these  little  illustrations  show 
the  conceptions  as  well  as  the  manners  of 
the  age.  In  one  of  these  old  Bibles  is  a 
picture  of  six  seigneurs  ( two  famous  biblio- 
philes among  them),  in  full  regalia  (no 
grave  clothes  for  them),  cordially  received 
by  Saint  Peter  at  the  Gothic  Gates  of  Para- 
dise in  the  courteous  days  of  the  old  re- 
gime. There  is  that  magnificent  jeweled 
Bible  of  Jean  Sans  Peur,  Due  de  Bour- 
goyne,  decorated  with  his  armorial  bear- 
ings, which  was  given  to  him  by  some 
monks  of  his  domain  when  he  deigned  to 
honor  them  with  a  visit;  it  contains  a 
charming  little  picture  of  the  presentation 
scene. 

Those  were  royal  days  for  bibliophiles ; 

[no] 


ucfflr vhitart  i  tut Imroii mviitt n  iirdu  icuiu 
cUi  M^viiitnurcinilc  tflaHi*nu.  ^I'tUitnn' 


Di,  /:^wl£^BSsnMMKMV>UKIUU  '"""le  o"1"  lumnwt  (Tfinumrv  Wtui. 
?° '  u,'j|   lainmooM  iii*ision»»n)  Ittuulriuoulrfitui  (raniDufinitruntiv 
is  out  Iroire  qui  trlnuuruOitinbln^  jlnfitsloDna.ttmanit  uui 
i»t>nf «uu.iouu <nniunft6»/iui\Rlmi9]ir»iiiiinn]|[r  iii.ionicru 


Page  from  the  Bible  of  Jean  Sans  Pear. 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

but  a  change  was  to  come  over  the  spirit 
of  their  dreams.  Printing  was  invented  and 
the  democracy  of  letters'  set  in, — jeweled 
bindings  made  way  for  calf,  and  collectors 
are  diverted  from  painting  to  presses. 
Bibliophiles  develop  individual  tastes  and 
such  a  plebeian  variety  of  them ;  it  is  akin 
to  free  speech  —  one  doting  on  prayer- 
books,  another  on  cook-books;  one  on 
pamphlets,  another  on  palimpsests ;  one  on 
school-books,  another  on  Virgils;  one  on 
curiosities  of  literature,  execrably  illustrat- 
ed books  of  travel  irl  impossible  lands  and 
comedies  of  error  generally;  another  on 
distant  glimpses  of  dawning  light,  until 
within  the  order  arises  the  confusion  of 
Babel,  one  no  longer  understanding  the 
language  of  another. 

But  there  is  an  early  Episcopal  prayer- 
book  in  the  British  Museum  before  which 
all  the  brotherhood  right  gallantly  might 
bow.  It  was  Lady  Jane  Grey's  companion 
in  distress;  she  is  said  to  have  taken  it 
with  her  to  the  scaffold,  where  she  certainly 
carried  its  lessons.  In  it  she  wrote  her  last 
message  to  her  father:  "The  Lord  com- 
fort Your  Grace  in  this  world  wherein  all 
creatures  are  only  to  be  comforted."  Her 
story  is  almost  too  harrowing  to  recall. 

[HI] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

This  studious  young  girl,  just  seventeen, 
is  offered  the  English  crown.  Her  common 
sense  tells  her  to  decline  it.  "  His  Grace," 
always  harsh,  even  for  his  day  and  genera- 
tion, forces  her  to  accept.  In  consequence, 
after  a  ten  days'  reign,  she  is  imprisoned 
in  the  Tower.  While  she  is  held  there 
"  His  Grace  "  makes  another  false  move ; 
as  a  result  of  his  idiocy  Lady  Jane  and  her 
young  husband  are  condemned  to  death. 
Could  we  believe  this  gentle  message  on 
hearsay?  We  should  probably  argue,  the 
age  was  so  narrow,  the  girl  was  so  young, 
the  expression  is  too  condensed,  too  ma- 
ture. The  rational  doubt  would  blur  one 
of  the  loveliest  pictures  in  Time's  gallery 
of  fair  women.  A  martyr  without  the  spur, 
or  the  blemish  of  fanaticism !  A  Queen  of 
ten  days  but  a  Defender  of  the  Faith  for- 
ever. The  crown  jewels  pale  before  this 
illuminated  prayer-book  of  Her  Most 
Christian  Majesty.  This  dear  little  Prot- 
estant called  forth  the  one  tender  letter 
extant  from  the  highly  practical  Diana  of 
Poitiers.  "I  have  just  been  hearing  the 
account  of  the  poor  young  Queen  Jane, 
and  I  could  not  keep  myself  from  weeping 
at  the  sweet,  resigned  words  she  spoke  to 
them  on  the  scaffold;  surely  never  was 

[112] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

such  a  sweet  and  accomplished  princess." 
Indeed,  the  best  thing  in  the  world  of 
books,  as  well  as  in  the  world  of  men,  "  is 
something  out  of  it,"  and  it  is  the  appre- 
ciation of  this  "  something,"  manifest  to 
sympathetic  souls,  which  makes  us  biblio- 
philes. If  unknown  to  history  a  tender 
touch  of  hands  long  dead  lurks  in  an  old 
edition,  is  it  not  beyond  price  ? 

Although  there  are  priceless  books  like 
this  little  prayer-book  of  Queen  Jane,  every 
good  bibliophile  is  a  bit  of  a  speculator; 
to  bet  on  an  author  is  as  loyal  an  excite- 
ment as  to  bet  on  a  racer;  and  to  feel  a 
beloved  volume  appreciating  upon  one's 
shelves  is  like  watching  the  development 
of  a  promising  child. 

Robert  Browning,  who  was  brought  up 
in  the  fold,  his  father  being  a  collector, 
writes : 

Do  you  see  this  square  old  yellow  Book,  I  toss 
P  the  air,  and  catch  again,  and  twirl  about 
By  the  crumpled  vellum  covers, —  pure  crude  fa6l 
Secreted  from  man's  life  when  hearts  beat  hard, 
And  brains,  high  blooded,  ticked  two  centuries 

since  ? 

Examine  it  yourselves!  I  found  this  book, 
Gave  a  lira  for  it,  eightpence  English  just. 
Opening  lines  of 
"The  Ring  and  the  Book." 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

That  eightpence  has  the  regular  biblio- 
maniacal  ring.  Next  to  giving  fifty  prices 
for  a  book,  the  genuine  collector  delights 
in  paying  an  improperly  low  one  —  a  tour 
deforce  either  of  wit  or  of  purse. 

Just  think  of  getting  material  for  the 
longest  poem  of  the  century  for  eightpence ! 
and  material  so  unique !  with  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  old  tome  thrown  in  ! 

But  now,  when  books  are  so  cheap  they 
are  almost  free,  when  exact  reproductions  of 
wonderful  editions  might  flood  the  market 
at  any  day,  when  venders  of  old  books  have 
become  too  expert  for  book  hunters,  we  are 
assured  that  bibliophiles,  grasping  the  tan- 
gible in  the  hope  of  realizing  the  intangible, 
are  the  absurdities  of  a  rational  age. 

Remember  our  record  in  the  past  and 
trust  us  a  little  in  the  present.  In  blind 
reverence  we  saved  books  and  inaugurated 
Christian  art.  Historians  suddenly  began 
to  demand  documents  and  they  grow  more 
and  more  insistent  on  that  point.  Well,  we 
can  come  to  their  aid  and  they  can  come 
to  ours;  many  a  pretty  bargain  has  been 
struck  in  the  exchange.  Along  with  its  old 
books  and  letters  we  have  especially  pre- 
served the  gentler,  though  none  too  gentle, 
side  of  the  past. 

["4] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

We  can  introduce  you  to  men  of  other 
days  in  their  libraries :  a  very  good  place 
to  study  them  sympathetically. 

Among  other  charming  facts,  we  can  as- 
sure you  that  even  during  the  confusion 
of  a  period  of  infinite  intrigue  complicated 
by  religious  wars  and  the  Fronde,  Richelieu 
and  Mazarin  found  time  to  play  at  biblio- 
mania, and  perhaps  we  can  persuade  you 
that  of  all  their  games  it  was  the  most 
profitable.  The  executive  Mazarin  got 
hold  of  an  invaluable  expert,  Naude,  who 
brought  him  bargains  by  the  yard.  What 
fun  they  must  have  had  out  of  it, —  Naude 
literally  taking  a  measuring-stick  with  him 
when  he  went  "book-hunting,"  and  "the 
stalls  where  he  had  passed  were  like  the 
towns  through  which  Attila  or  the  Tartars 
had  swept!"  But  the  result  was  different. 
Deserving  books  were  sumptuously  decked 
out  in  red  and  olive  morocco  with  gold- 
tooled  cardinal  hats  thereon,  and  took  their 
rightful  place  in  Mazarin's  palace,  that 
Earthly  Paradise  of  the  bibliophile  graced 
by  beautiful  books  and  gentle  readers,  for 
Mazarin's  library  was  cordially  free,  the 
first  really  free  library  in  France. 

It  is  true  that  Saint  Louis,  always  open 
to  a  beautiful  idea,  hearing  of  a  sultan  who 


Flowers  From  Meditzval  History 

had  had  copies  made  of  the  manuscripts 
of  his  realm  for  the  benefit  of  the  savants, 
endeavored  to  follow  the  example  of  the 
Moslem.  Accordingly  he  made  a  beauti- 
ful collection  of  copies  which  were  kept  in 
the  royal  chapel  —  hardly  a  convenient 
place  for  the  reading  public ;  but  then  there 
was  no  reading  public. 

However  humble  a  Christian,  however 
gentle  a  knight  Saint  Louis  may  have  been, 
he  was  destitute  of  one  instinct  of  the  dem- 
ocrat. After  his  death  his  collection  was 
broken  up,  but  his  idea  descended  to 
Charles  the  Wise,  who  practically  started 
the  Royal  Library  which,  joined  to  the 
Mazarin,  developed  into  the  present  Bib- 
liotheque  Nationale. 

As  the  oldest  branch  of  the  Public  Li- 
brary, the  Bibliotheque  Nationale  occupies 
the  ancestral  home,  the  Palais  Mazarin  at 
Paris,  where  Mazarin's  motto,  "Time  and 
I,"  rings  forth  in  the  majesty  of  accom- 
plishment. 

As  "Ever  since  the  days  of  Captain 
Kidd,  the  Yankees  think  there's  money 
hid,"  so  ever  since  the  disappearance  of 
Moliere's  library  the  bibliophiles  think 
there 's  treasure  hid.  Only  one  book  which 
belonged  to  that  prince  of  bibliophiles  has 

[116] 


Stray  Leaves  From  Old,  Old  Books 

turned  up  so  far,  a  little  Elzevir  of  1651, 
in  which  he  obligingly  wrote  his  name  and 
the  price,  i  livrey  10  sous.  But  think  of  his 
two  hundred  and  forty  odd  comedies  which 
he  handled  so  deftly  both  in  the  letter  and 
in  the  spirit,  "taking  his  property  wherever 
he  found  it!"  What  pearls  of  price  if  one 
could  only  trace  them ! 

We  know  this  collection  was  broken  up ; 
it  cannot  be  that  every  single  book  has 
perished.  One  is  almost  justified  in  count- 
ing such  chickens  before  they  are  hatched. 
Moliere  was  not  only  one  of  the  greatest  but 
one  of  the  most  lovable  of  authors  —  that 
quality  we  collectors  value  so  highly!  Why 
a  book  of  his  would  be  like  a  relic  of  a  saint 
(there  is  a  bit  of  medievalism  in  every  good 
bibliophile) ;  a  saint,  a  bibliophile  of  other 
days,  an  actor,  a  gentle  reader  and  a  genius! 
What  might  not  any  one  of  them  bring? 
Ah,  there  is  still  a  golden  fleece  for  the 
quest  of  the  Romantic  Modern. 

Romance  will  always  deal  in  talismans. 
We  bibliophiles  make  ours  a  thing  of  the 
mind,  which  we  lay  away  between  the  lines 
of  some  gentle  old  volume,  hoping  that 
some  day,  somewhere  in  the  vague  realm 
of  Books,  it  may  work  its  pleasant  magic 
upon  some  unknown  comrade. 

["7] 


The 

Romantic  Twentieth  Century: 
A  Deduction 

THE  simple  story-tellers  of  old,  singing 
away  before  History  was  born,  long, 
long  before  she  became  contradictory  and 
disrespectful,  chose  the  past  as  a  setting 
for  certain  beatitudes — love,  beauty,  valor, 
fidelity  and  justice.  Theirs  was  not  the 
harsh  justice  of  the  common  law,  for 
there  was  no  common  law,  but  true,  or, 
as  the  world  terms  it,  poetic  justice.  They 
strengthened  the  warp  of  their  story 
with  the  noblest  deeds  done,  or  almost 
done,  around  them,  for  human  beings  so 
often  fall  just  short  of  great  things ; 
this  it  is  the  gentle  and  honorable  duty 
of  story  to  remedy,  for  "  What  we  would 
be,  that  we  are  for  one  transcendent  mo- 
ment." 

When  they  only  recorded  the  prowess 
of  the  victor,  History  and  Romance  were 
one  and  at  peace,  and  the  glorious  days  of 

[118] 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

which  together  they  sung  were  known  as 
the  Golden  Age. 

Then  History  began  to  feel  the  heroism 
of  the  vanquished.  To  give  them  their 
meed  she  conceived  the  idea  of  recording 
impartially  the  good  and  evil  around  her, 
whereat  childish  Romance  turned  from  her 
in  disgust. 

But  each  claimed  the  Golden  Age :  Ro- 
mance declaring  that  golden  tales  that  live 
and  grow  were  hers  for  all  time ;  History  de- 
claring that  the  facl  that  a  great  poet  imag- 
ined an  event  to  have  happened  counted 
for  more  in  the  human  record  than  any 
other  given  occurrence.  And  History  and 
Romance  quarreled  on  until  it  seemed  as 
though  the  Golden  Age  would  be  lost  to 
both  of  them. 

Then  Romance,  always  enterprising  to 
the  point  of  flightiness,  suggested  that,  as 
the  Golden  Age  had  no  chronology,  it 
might  safely  be  recast  in  the  future,  in 
which  period  she,  at  least,  was  quite  as 
much  at  home  as  in  the  past. 

Politic  Old  Dame  History  smiled  at 
the  idea  of  her  dealing  in  futures,  but  she 
did  make  herself  responsible  for  the  state- 
ment that  the  real  present  is  infinitely 
more  romantic  than  the  real  past.  Then 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

waxing  bold  she  declared  that,  with  some 
trifling  digression,  she  had  all  along  been 
leading  men  toward  a  purer  justice  more 
mixed  with  love.  Of  this  sweeping  asser- 
tion she  calmly  cast  the  burden  of  proof 
upon  "my  most  persuasive  witness,  my 
dear  old  friend,  Romance."  And  Romance, 
who  always  begs  the  question,  replies  with 
a  smile,  "  Let  me  tell  some  stories.  No,  I 
will  not  commence  with  the  Greeks,  they 
are  hardly  my  people.  Great  poets  may 
find  other  themes,  but  as  for  me,  my 
humble  fancy  must  rest  upon  a  woman 
and  she  should  be  pure,  sweet  and  gentle 
and  brave  men  should  bow  before  her. 

"The  Grecian  woman  was  in  no  way  a 
free  agent.  To  assert  herself  at  all,  she 
was  obliged  to  be  either  deceitful  or  de- 
fiant; both  attitudes  are  so  unbeautiful! 
I  commence  with  the  days  of  chivalry,  for 
though  women  were  not  free  then,  it  was 
supposed  that  they  ought  to  be,  which  is 
enough  for  me." 

"  To  me,"  says  History, "  the  love  sto- 
ries of  the  days  of  chivalry,  told  as  fact 
or  as  old  romance,  are  one  of  the  saddest 
issues  of  its  universal  tyranny  —  a  tyranny 
of  parent  over  child,  of  man  over  woman, 
of  lord  over  serf,  of  king  over  lord,  of 

[120] 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

emperor  over  king,  of  pope  over  emper- 
or— a  tyranny  of  crazy  conventions  and 
mistaken  ideals  over  all,  with  mortifica- 
tions of  spirit  a  thousand  times  harsher 
than  those  of  the  flesh,  which  made  life 
hideous  even  to  its  ideals. 

"Analyze  the  great  love  story  of  that 
era  and  you  find  rather  a  tragedy  of  tyr- 
anny. It  runs  thus:  About  the  close  of 
the  Dark  Ages  the  parents  of  Pierre  Abe- 
lard  decided,  for  the  future  repose  of  their 
souls,  to  repress  all  their  natural  desires 
and  shift  all  mundane  duties.  Accordingly 
they  retired  to  separate  convents,  leaving 
their  son  free  to  follow  his  natural  bent. 
Argument  being  his  ruling  passion,  he  wan- 
dered through  France  challenging  the  local 
theologians  in  debate,  always  drawing  a 
following,  always  making  powerful  enemies, 
and,  doubtless,  very  much  enjoying  the 
life.  At  Laon  he  tackled  the  great  Anselm, 
and  finding  him  a  man  'of  mean  genius 
and  great  fluency  of  words  without  sense,' 
Abelard  conceived  the  idea  of  reading  the 
Bible  for  himself.  Then  he  made  his  way 
to  Paris  to  break  a  lance  with  the  great 
Canon  Fulbert,  where  he  met  the  Canon's 
niece,  Heloise.  A  love  story  ensued,  like 
other  love  stories  in  many  ways,  except 

[121] 


Flowers  From  Mediaeval  History 

that  Heloise,  against  all  self-interest,  phys- 
ical, social,  spiritual,  refused  to  marry  her 
lover,  entreat  as  he  might;  she  would  do 
anything  else  for  him,  except  state  her 
true  reason  —  but  yet  a  woman.  We  have 
it  finally  in  her  correspondence, c  What  an 
injury  shall  I  do  the  Church  if  I  rob  it  of 
such  a  man  ! ' 

"Is  it  a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  the 
Church  on  her  part,  or  is  it  a  woman's 
sacrifice  for  the  interests  of  the  man  she 
loves  better  than  herself?  Had  her  mother 
made  a  like  renunciation?  No  mother 
appears  in  the  story  of  this  adopted  niece 
of  an  ecclesiastic.  Here  is  Heloise's  posi- 
tion. In  her  time  the  only  opening  for  a 
clever  man  was  the  Church  with  its  condi- 
tions; a  loving  woman  should  not  hamper 
an  ambitious  man ;  she  should  remember 
she  cannot  be  to  him  what  he  is  to  her, 
which  is  a  law  of  life  known  to  woman, 
that  we  find  holds  true  here.  Having  first 
given  her  all  to  the  Church,  she  enters  a 
convent  at  Abelard's  suggestion.  But  in 
the  twelfth  century,  or  any  other,  the  hope 
of  youth  dies  hard.  Heloise  does  not  take 
the  black  veil.  She  cannot  burn  her  ships. 

"Thereafter  this  truly  fair  woman  of 
Romance  figures  as  a  stern  disciplinarian 

[122] 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

reporting  the  weaker  sisters.  But  she  is 
severe  upon  herself  as  well,  and  confesses 
having  unlawfully  opened  a  letter  in  which 
she  was  sure  there  was  news  of  her  Abe- 
lard  ;  though,  when  in  after  years  Abelard 
wished  to  correspond  with  her,  she  begged 
him  not.  This  is  the  tragedy  of  Heloise. 

"Abelard  also  entered  a  convent,  but 
there,  as  elsewhere,  he  had  a  wonderful 
faculty  for  carrying  his  point,  and  probably 
led,  on  the  whole,  a  very  congenial  life. 
However,  he  once  overstepped  himself, 
and  was  summoned  to  appear  before  the 
Council  of  Soissons  and  commanded  to 
burn  his  own  book  with  his  own  hands. 
He  ungallantly  admitted  that  this  was  the 
saddest  moment  of  his  life.  Here  is  Abe- 
lard's  tragedy.  He  felt  that  all  was  lost. 
But  it  was  Abelard  that  the  world  needed, 
not  his  book. 

"  Brave  as  Socrates,  Abelard  returned  to 
the  Abbey  of  Saint  Denis,  there  to  raise 
the  first  historic  doubt.  He  did  not  think 
Saint  Denis  was  the  Areopagite  of  the 
Scriptures,  nor  did  he  believe  the  saint  was 
ever  in  Paris.  The  horrified  Abbot  ac- 
cordingly gave  Abelard  over  to  the  civil 
authorities  f  for  reflections  upon  the  king- 
dom and  the  crown.' 

[I23] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

"Driven  from  Paris,  he  retired  to  a 
cloistered  order  at  Troy es,  where  he  built 
a  church  and  had  the  pleasure  of  dedicat- 
ing it  to  the  Holy  Ghost  (there  being  a 
law  against  dedicating  a  temple  to  the  Par- 
aclete). Arguing  to  the  last,  Abelard  passed 
away,  and  while  his  body  was  mouldering 
in  the  ground,  his  soul  went  arguing  on  in 
his  intellectual  descendants,  the  mediaeval 
schoolmen  who,  in  their  poor  way,  managed 
to  awaken  the  mind  of  Europe,  if  only  to 
lead  it  by  labyrinths  into  a  cul-de-sac. 

"  I  wonder  if  Heloise  was  able  to  follow 
her  true  love's  valiant  career  without  earthly 
pride  ?  Or  by  some  strange  austere  resolve 
did  she  deny  herself  that  gentle  pleasure  ? 
For  Heloise  belongs  to  the  species,  om- 
nipotent woman,  who  carries  out  her  de- 
cisions by  hook  or  by  crook  for  the  benefit 
of  self  and  others,  never  hampered  by  a 
doubt  of  the  ultimate  excellence  of  her 
arrangements. 

"  Did  she  do  well  not  to  rob  the  Church 
of  Abelard?  Perhaps  she  builded  better 
than  she  knew,  or  she  may  have  made  a 
sad  mistake,  but  God  knows,  she  did  her 
best.  That  was  eight  hundred  years  ago, 
but  her  story  is  tragic  today.  As  to  Abe- 
lard's,  it  is  really  very  interesting. 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

"And,"  continues  History,  "the  favor- 
ite romance  of  this  sadly  submissive  age 
was  cThe  Patient  Griselda.'  It  was  an  old, 
old  tale  when  Boccaccio  told  it,  but,  thank 
fortune,  it  is  dead  at  last,  for  we  can- 
not now  conceive  of  the  excellence  of  the 
heroine. 

"A  marquis,  whose  only  love  is  the  chase, 
is  forced  by  his  subjects  to  marry.  He  com- 
promises on  a  little  country  girl,  and  re- 
quires her  to  promise  cto  study  to  please 
him  and  not  to  be  uneasy  at  anything 
whatever  he  may  do  or  say.'  (A  man's 
requirements,  only  this  marquis  was  n't  a 
gentleman.)  To  test  her  patience,  he  amuses 
himself  by  taking  her  children  from  her, 
one  by  one,  and  leading  her  to  suppose 
that  they  have  been  killed,  because  his 
people  objected  to  the  descendants  of  a 
peasant.  Griselda  blesses  her  children  as 
she  delivers  them  to  his  servitor,  saying: 

"  {Take  them;  do  what  my  lord  and 
thine  has  commanded;  but,  prithee,  leave 
them  not  to  be  devoured  by  fowls  or  wild 
beasts  unless  that  be  his  will.' 

"Then  the  marquis  tells  her  he  must 
annul  their  marriage. 

"  She  replies,  *  For  what  I  have  been  I 
hold  myself  indebted  to  Providence  and 

[W] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

you.  I  consider  it  a  favor  lent  me,'  and 
she  acquiescingly  returns  to  the  house  of 
her  father,  who  has  prudently  saved  her 
old  garments,  never  supposing  the  marquis 
would  c  keep  her  long  as  wife.'  In  good 
time  the  marquis  summons  her  to  prepare 
his  home  for  a  new  wife.  She  affectionately 
complies.  The  new  wife  proves  to  be  her- 
self, the  marquis  being  quite  persuaded  that 
her  patience  'proceeds  from  no  want  of 
understanding  in  her.'  Her  children  are 
restored.  She  weeps  for  joy,  and  they  all 
live  happily  ever  after." 

Romance  replies,  "The  chivalry  in  your 
instances  is  confined  to  the  women,  which 
is  always  pathetic.  As  to  the  actual  Gris- 
elda  of  Aquitaine,  whose  name  and  story 
grew  into  the  heart  of  an  age,  she  lived 
just  before  the  days  of  chivalry.  Indeed, 
Shades  of  women  like  Griselda  and  Helo- 
ise  may  have  inspired  the  chivalrous  atti- 
tude toward  women. 

"One  should  read  Griselda's  story  in 
Chaucer,  not  in  shallow-hearted  Boccaccio, 
even  though  it  was  the  purest  and  most 
popular  of  his  tales.  Chaucer  would  make 
you  feel  her  kinship  with  women  now,  who 
make  sacrifices  for  love  less  open  and  rude 
but  not  so  different  from  hers. 

[126] 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

"  Listen,  History,"  continues  Romance, 
"  to  Chaucer's  tale :  You  have  commended 
bloodier  deeds  than  Griselda's.  The  mar- 
quis says  to  Griselda,  when  he  demands 
the  child, c  In  great  lordship  there  is  great 
servitude.  I  may  not  do  as  every  plough- 
man may,'  and  Griselda,  like  a  mother, 
whose  son  is  demanded  as  a  sacrifice  on 
the  altar  of  her  country,  first  consecrates 
him  to  God.  She  is  as  tender  to  her  child 
as  she  is  loyal  to  her  husband,  but  I  will 
say  no  more ;  no  one  but  Chaucer  should 
touch  that  scene. 

"  I  have  always  suspected  that  the  real 
marquis  in  question  intended  to  kill  the 
child  for  exactly  the  reasons  he  stated,  and 
the  gentleness  of  the  mother,  who  could 
not  possibly  protect  the  child,  saved  it. 
Life  was  held  very  loosely  then.  You  see, 
History,  I  tell  more  truth  than  I  am  sup- 
posed to  and  you  tell  less,  my  idea  being 
to  appear  fanciful,  yours,  to  appear  truth- 
ful. We  are  all  poor  sinners.  However," 
continues  Romance,  "a  sweeter  day  was 
dawning.  Out  of  the  effort  of  the  soldier 
to  protect  the  pilgrim  grew  the  Holy 
Wars,  wherein  the  ideal  that  the  strong 
should  serve  the  weak  was  born,  and  I 
nursed  it  into  chivalry." 

[I27] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

"And  a  hideous  and  lawless  state  of 
things  you  brought  forth,"  remarked  His- 
tory;  for  Romance  and  History,  like  other 
old  friends  that  have  separated  and  come 
together  again,  cannot  collate  long  in  ac- 
cord. 

"In  some  cases  I  taught  men  not  to 
need  the  law's  control,"  retorted  Romance. 
KTo  make  men  gentle  one  must  teach  them 
gently,  so  I  sent  my  troubadours  through 
the  land  as  trusty  messengers  of  chivalry 
and  bid  them  sing  the  new  ideal  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  realm.  And  in  song  they 
contended  as  lustily  for  the  point  of  honor 
as  ever  knight  contended  with  his  lance. 

"  To  these  simple  troubadours  that  love 
which  is  not  physical,  which  begs  to  serve, 
not  to  be  served,  and  poetry,  itself,  were 
one,  and  known  by  one  term  alone, — 
Love.  But  disputes  arose  regarding  this 
term  for  an  ideal  new  under  the  sun, —  dis- 
interested love  in  its  highest  and  its  fullest. 
Therefore,  where  the  shades  of  classic  re- 
finement lingered  latest,  in  fair  Provence, 
I  instituted  tribunals  before  which  my 
troubadours  might  plead  their  subtle  causes 
in  song,  and  styled  them  Courts  of  Love. 
My  judges  were  the  gentlest  of  ladies  and 
poets  bowed  before  them,  saying : 

[128] 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

f  For  all  my  words  here  and  every  part 

I  speak  them  all  under  correction 
Of  you  that  feeling  have  in  love's  art, 
And  put  it  all  in  your  discretion.'  ' 

History  interrupts:  "Among  my  hu- 
moresques,  I  happen  to  have  a  literal 
account  of  one  of  those  old  Courts  of  Love. 
It  was  convened  by  the  Countess  of  Cham- 
pagne ;  she  had  fifteen  more  women  on  the 
bench  with  her,  all  decked  out  in  green 
and  gold.  Monkey-fashion,  those  scented 
ladies  (precieuses  ridicules}  of  old  had  the 
proceedings  of  their  toy  court  solemnly 
recorded.  Andre,  their  scribe,  adds  that 
the  perfumes  on  the  fair  judges  kept  him 
sneezing  continually  while  he  was  taking 
testimony.  At  that  time  chivalry  had  most 
absurdly  exalted  cmy  ladye/  also  the 
'beautiful  unseen/  styled  the  *  beautiful 
unknown/  and  see  the  things  men  were 
expected  to  do!" 

"Yes,  and  what  is  more,  they  did  them," 
retorted  Romance,  "  and  at  the  bidding  of 
woman  without  other  coercion,  and  the 
spirit  of  her  law  still  rules." 

"  I  am  confining  myself  to  documentary 
evidence,"  says  History  tartly.  "This  Chief 
Justice  of  Love,  Maria  of  Champagne, 
was  the  daughter  of  that  Queen  Eleanor 

[I29] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

of  France,  who  would  go  on  the  Second 
Crusade.  Had  she  only  behaved  herself 
in  the  East,  she  might  have  figured  as  the 
first  New  Woman.  However,  that  was  not 
to  be.  Formal  action  was  brought  before 
the  Court  of  the  Chief  Justice  of  Love  in 
the  Province  of  Beauty  by  plaintiff,  a 
servitor  of  love,  against  defendant,  a  Fair 
Lady  —  likewise  a  married  one.  Plaintiff 
had  agreed  to  walk  twice  a  week  past  de- 
fendant's door,  for  which  service  defend- 
ant agreed  to  throw  him  a  bunch  of  violets. 
As  the  weather  was  cold  and  the  road 
muddy,  plaintiff  tired  of  the  job  and  claimed 
in  legal  phraseology,  as  he  did  not  always 
get  his  violets,  that  breach  of  contract 
should  release  him  from  further  obliga- 
tion. 

"  Defendant  pleads  ecstasy  of  love  and 
anguish  of  mind.  She  said  that  because  of 
Danger  (Court  term  for  husband)  she 
could  not  always  perform  her  contract,since 
she  frequently  had  to  profess  that  she  was 
asleep,  although  she  was  awake;  that  it 
was  highly  ungallant  in  defendant  to  com- 
plain of  snow  and  mire.  Love  should  ren- 
der him  invulnerable.  She  also  added  that 
the  man  had  the  best  of  it,  for  he  might 
repeat  his  hours  and  orisons  while  he  was 


Head  of  Justice,  from  Flare's  Group. 

This  Old  Venetian  Figure  of  Justice  Still  Presides 

Over  the  Gallery  of  Early  Painters  at  Venice. 

Technically  she  is  in  ad-vance  of  the 

Madonnas  of  Her  Period. 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

walking  up  and  down  before  her  door ;  also, 
he  had  the  privilege  of  kissing  her  latch 
as  he  passed,  whereas  ( feminine  economy ) 
she  was  obliged  to  purchase  thread  to  tie 
up  his  violets. 

"Judgment  in  favor  of  the  lady. 

"Among  the  celebrated  cases  recorded 
in  this  court  are  two  every-day  disagree- 
ments between  man  and  woman.  A  gen- 
tleman complains  of  the  refusal  of  a  lady 
to  dance  with  him,  which  rendered  him 
ridiculous.  The  court  commanded  the  lady 
to  dance  with  him. 

"Action  was  brought  by  a  wife  against 
her  husband  for  restraining  her  from  wear- 
ing a  hat  of  the  newest  fashion. 

"Judgment  for  the  lady. 

"I  will  close,"  continues  History,  "by 
citing  a  few  of  the  thirty-one  rulings  of 
this  Court  of  Maria  of  Champagne : 

"i.  Love  and  economy  do  not  agree. 

"2.  Without  good  reason  no  one  can 
be  forbidden  to  love. 

"3.  Love  is  not  stationary.  If  it  does 
not  diminish,  it  will  increase. 

"4.  It  is  not  loving  to  kiss  and  tell. 

"  5.  No  man  can  love  two  women  at 
the  same  time. 

"6.  A  woman   should   persist   in    her 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

choice  till  all  hope  be  abandoned ;  like  per- 
sistence cannot  be  demanded  from  man." 

"  Maria  de  Champagne  was  a  profound 
jurist,  but  I  doubt  if  she  was  a  truly  ro- 
mantic woman,"  replies  Romance.  "Were 
I  not  too  chivalrous  to  expose  to  your 
commonplace  laughter  the  gentlest  yearn- 
ing of  a  rude  age,  their  uncertain  groping 
for  a  vague  ideal  too  noble  for  their  actual 
conception,  I  could  a  sweeter  tale  unfold 
of  Courts  of  Love  of  old. 

"  But  if  you  will  laugh  at  ideals  of  ro- 
mantic love,  laugh  kindly  with  me  over 
its  merriest  comedy,  written  by  the  saddest 
and  most  chivalrous  lover  of  them  all. 

"  Take  down  your  files,  Dame  History, 
and  find,  if  you  can,  another  servitor  of 
love  as  chivalrous  to  his  lady  as  Moliere 
was  to  his  wife,  a  woman  belonging  to 
other  men;  Moliere's  patience,  like  Gris- 
elda's,  *  proceeded  from  no  lack  of  under- 
standing.' ' 

"You  have  wandered  far  from  the  ro- 
mance of  the  days  of  chivalry  for  your 
chivalrous  instance,"  sneers  History. 

"  I  was  following  up  the  seed  that  chiv- 
alry sowed,  the  idea  of  the  self-effacement 
of  the  strong  in  favor  of  the  weak.  But  let 
us  turn  from  the  dramatist  to  the  comedy, 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

and  by  a  short  consideration  of '  Les  Pre- 
cieuses  Ridicules,  I  may  be  able  to  make 
your  point  for  you, £  that  the  actual  present 
is  as  romantic  as  the  romance  of  the  past.' 
"  At  the  beginning  of  this  play,  George- 
bus,  a  provincial  gentleman,  has  made  ar- 
rangements with  two  satisfactory  persons 
to  marry  respectively  his  daughter  and 
niece.  The  girls  are  brought  to  Paris, 
where  the  candidates  for  their  hands  and 
hearts  appear  and  come  to  the  point  at 
once.  It  seems  the  girls  have  been  read- 
ing the  romances  of  Mile,  de  Scudery,  who 
has  given  them  the  idea  that  a  lover  should 
fall  in  love  at  sight,  seek  out  his  lady,  woo 
her,  and  after  gallantly  surmounting  many 
obstacles,  win  her.  Georgebus  perceives 
that  the  men  depart  in  displeasure  and  in- 
vestigates. He  has  observed  that  the  girls 
are  aping  the  manners  of  the  ladies  of  the 
Court,  which  in  Moliere's  time  were  very 
affected.  Georgebus'  daughter  states  her 
platform.  It  is  rather  romantic,  but  there 
are  lovers  nowadays  that  might  fill  the  bill. 
She  closes  by  saying, '  But  to  plunge  head- 
long into  a  proposal  of  marriage,  to  make 
love  and  marriage  settlements  go  hand  in 
hand,  is  to  begin  the  romance  at  the  wrong 
end.  Once  more,  father,  there  is  nothing 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

more  shopkeeper-like  than  such  proceed- 
ings.' Georgebus  is  unable  f  to  make  out 
the  meaning  of  her  jargon/  while  his  niece 
adds  that  those  gentlemen  'have  never 
seen  the  map  of  the  Country  of  Tender- 
ness.' She  is  also  dissatisfied  with  their 
dress. 

"  Certainly,  Moliere  did  know  what 
young  girls  crave,  which  Georgebus  was 
unable  to  understand. 

"  In  the  meantime  the  disconcerted  lov- 
ers have  dressed  their  valets  up  and  bid- 
den them  address  the  ladies  in  the  most 
exaggerated  fashion.  The  young  girls  are 
completely  taken  in,  as  girls  often  are  by 
pseudo  noblemen.  The  comedy  runs  high. 
Finally  the  masters  appear,  strip  their 
valets  of  their  finery,  whip  them  and  send 
them  home. 

"The  bottom  falls  out  of  everything. 
Georgebus  cries,  *  Hide  yourselves,  you 
idiots,  hide  yourselves  forever,'  and  after 
the  girls'  exit,  adds,  *  The  cause  of  all  the 
trouble  lies  in  romances,  verses,  songs,  son- 
nets and  lays.' 

"  But  in  the  long  run,  romances,  verses 
and  songs  have  won.  Twentieth  century 
sentiment  goes  with  the  girls  though  they 
were  fooled  once  in  the  days  of  their  youth. 

['34] 


An  Idetl  of  the  Gracious 

Republic  of  Venice,  Attended  by  Justice  and  Peace, 

Expressed  by  Paul  Veronese, 

Sixteenth  Century. 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

Nowadays,  my  courts  sit  in  secret  session. 
The  novel  is  their  organ,  but,  History, 
your  crude  Courts  of  Love  died  out  six 
hundred  years  ago." 

"Never  have  I  called  you  into  my 
councils  that  I  have  not  been  belittled," 
observes  History.  "  My  romance  is  de- 
mocracy not  courtship  and  it  commenced 
with  the  inspiration  of  the  Greeks.  My 
first  votary  taught  that  'it  is  clear  not  in 
one  thing  alone,  but  wherever  you  test 
it,  what  a  good  thing  is  equality  among 
men.'  He  adds,  'A  tyrant  disturbs  an- 
cient laws,  violates  women,  kills  men  with- 
out trial.  But  a  people  ruling:  first,  the 
very  name  of  it  is  so  beautiful — Isonomie; 
and  secondly,  a  people  does  none  of  these 
things.' 

"And  this  beautiful  'equality  among 
men*  I  have  followed  in  its  ideal,  in  its 
fruition  and  alas,  sometimes,  in  its  debase- 
ment throughout  the  ages.  I  watched  its 
short  and  glorious  days  in  Greece,  its  or- 
derly development  in  Rome,  its  splendid 
resurrection  in  Venice,  which  led  the  line 
of  free  cities  of  the  Middle  Ages  that 
handed  it  down.  I  watched  the  American 
and  the  French  Republics  rise  in  the  eight- 
eenth century,  the  French  to  totter,  but  to 

[135] 


Flowers  From  Medieval  History 

rise  again,  the  American  to  live  to  fight 
another  chivalrous  war  for  human  rights; 
and,  the  justice  of  republics  proven,  the 
twentieth  century  built  one  in  a  day. 
Then  the  distant  continent,  that  drained 
the  bravest  blood  of  Portugal  in  the  six- 
teenth century,  wiped  out  its  debt  with 
the  *  fruits  of  the  spirit,'  the  romantic  spirit 
of  the  twentieth  century. 

"  Herodotus  placed  his  faith  in  the 
people  long  ago,  probably  on  more  evi- 
dence than  he  reported  in  support  of  what 
to  him  seemed  self-evident.  Were  he  to 
come  back  to  his  native  town  now  he  would 
find  his  beautiful  city  of  Halicarnassus  re- 
placed by  a  mean  Turkish  village,  but 
through  it  are  ringing  the  words  *  Liberty, 
Equality,  Fraternity,'  and  the  Father  of 
History  might  be  less  surprised  than  men 
of  today  by  the  revolution  that  has  sud- 
denly established  a  constitution  in  Turkey. 
Indeed,  nowhere  has  the  very  name  of 
equality  proved  more  beautiful.  Since  July 
25,  1908,  the  lion  and  the  lamb  have  ac- 
tually lain  down  together  on  the  once 
bloody  fields  of  the  Turk.  Over  a  little 
Turkish  shop  two  inscriptions  appeared, 
side  by  side,  above  the  three  beautiful 
words:  'The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  be- 


The  Romantic  Twentieth  Century 

ginning  of  wisdom'  and  'The  beginning  is 
from  God;  so  victory  is  sure.' 

"  And  if  the  great  traveler  of  old  were 
to  push  on  westward  across  Europe,  west- 
ward across  the  Atlantic,  he  might  be- 
queath his  visions  to  earth,  and  bidding  us 
hope  on,  go  back  well  pleased  to  the  Courts 
of  the  Dead,  his  simple  thesis  proved  — 
CA  people  does  none  of  these  things." 

Romance  aside,  "In  her  self-satisfaction 
she  has  forgotten  all  about  the  Golden 
Age.  It  never  was  hers.  It  is  mine,  and 
I  will  recast  it  safely  in  the  future.  There 
will  I  hold  Courts  of  Love  to  define  all 
new  ideals,  my  pleaders  shall  be  poets  and 
their  words  shall  be  spoken  under  correc- 
tion of  those  that  have  feeling  in  the  art 
of  this  broader  love,  and  my  good  knights 
shall  swear  'To  defy  power  that  seems 
omnipotent,  to  love  and  bear,  to  hope  till 
Hope  creates  from  its  own  wreck  the 
thing  it  contemplates." 

Thus  does  the  romantic  twentieth  cen- 
tury realize  the  fruition  of  the  ideals  of 
democrats  of  the  past. 


['37] 


A  W^ord  Regarding 
Bibliography 

The  original  documents*  consulted  for  this  book  have 
been  the  works  of  art  of  which  it  treats.  In  the  case 
of  old  books,  I  have  also  availed  myself  of  facsimiles, 
which  have  this  advantage  over  originals,  they  may 
be  freely  handled.  Most  interesting  among  them  are 
THE  BOOK  OF  KELLS,  notes  from  copy  of  plates,  with 
remarks  by  Westwood  and  Digby  Watts;  and  ILLU- 
MINATED BOOKS  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,  by  Humphrey 
Jones.  The  authorities  on  Gothic  architecture,  which 
I  have  accepted  as  final,  are  Viollet-le-Duc  and  Cor- 
royer.  I  have  drawn  much  of  my  material  from  modern 
technical  periodicals,  most  useful  of  which  have  been 
LES  ARTS,  REVUE  ARCHEOLOGIQUE,  REVUE  DES  QUES- 
TIONS HISTORIQUES  and  the  AMERICAN  HISTORICAL  RE- 
VIEW. Though  I  have  had  recourse  to  general  historians 
who  treat  of  the  Middle  Ages,  —  Duruy,  Gibbon, 
Guizot,  Kitchin,  Saint  Martin,  etc. ;  to  guide  books  of 
accepted  accuracy,  —  Baedeker,  Guerber,  Guides  Jo- 
anne, and  Dent's  Mediaeval  Town  Series;  to  encyclo- 
pedias, English  and  French, —  to  the  appended  list  of 
authorities  I  acknowledge  especial  indebtedness.  Even 
when  I  have  not  borrowed  statements  from  them  I  have 


*  A  '  document '  *  *  *  is  an  instrument  on  which  is  recorded, 
by  means  of  letters,  figures,  or  marks,  matter  which  may  be  eviden- 
tially used. —  F.  WHARTON,  Law  of  Evidence. 


[J39] 


A  Word  Regarding  Bibliography 

been  influenced  by  them  in  my  interpretations  of  the 
Middle  Ages: 

Blades,  Wm.,  Books  in  Chains. 

Boulting,  Wm.,  Torquato  Tasso  and  His  Times. 

Bruun,  J.  A.,  An  Inquiry  into  the  Arts  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Bryce,  James,  Holy  Roman  Empire. 

Chereul,  Diftionnaire  des  Institutions  Francaises. 

Clerval,  A.,  Guide  Chartrain  (Dofteur  es-Lettres, 
Laureat  de  1' Academic  des  Inscriptions  et  Belles-Let- 
tres  et  Membre  de  la  Societe  Nationale  des  Antiquaires). 

Cutts,  Edward  Lewes,  Scenes  and  Characters  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Dill,  Samuel,  Roman  Society  in  the  Last  Century  of 
the  Western  Empire. 

Fletcher  (Prof.  Bannister  and  Bannister  F.  Fletcher), 
History  of  Architecture  on  the  Comparative  Method. 

Gray,  Geo.  Zabriskie,  The  Children's  Crusade. 

Gould,  Sabine  Baring-,  Myths  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Hawkins,  John  Sidney,  History  of  the  Origin  and 
Establishment  of  Gothic  Architecture. 

Hay,  John,  Castilian  Days. 

Hugo,  Notre  Dame  de  Paris. 

Ivo,  Letters  of  Ivo  (reprint  of  original  documents). 

Jusserand,  J.  J.,  La  Vie  Nomade. 

Lacroix,  Paul,  Military  and  Religious  Life  in  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Lang,  Andrew,  Books  and  Bookmen. 

Lecoy-de-la  Manche,  Richard  Albert:  France  under 
St.  Louis  and  Philip  le  Hardi ;  Les  Manuscripts  et  la 
Miniature ;  Le  Troisieme  Siecle  Artistique ;  Suger. 

Mabillon  (edited  by),  Life  of  Bishop  Arnold  of 
Le  Mans. 

Maitland,  Samuel  Roffey,  The  Dark  Ages. 


[I40] 


A  Word  Regarding  Bibliography 

Mandan,  Books  in  Manuscript. 

Matthews,  Story  of  Architecture. 

Merlct,  Eugene,  Bulletin  Monumental,  Numoer  67, 
of  1903. 

Norton,  Chas.  Eliot,  Church  Building  in  the  Middle 
Ages. 

Reber,  Dr.  Franz  von,  History  of  Mediaeval  Art. 

Reinach,  Salomon,  Apollo. 

Rennert,  Hugo  Albert,  Life  of  Lope  de  Vega. 

Rowbotham,  J.  F.,  Troubadours  and  Courts  of  Love. 

Stetson,  F.  M.,  William  the  Conqueror. 

Ticknor,  Geo.,  History  of  Spanish  Literature. 

Trumble,  Alfred,  Sword  and  Scimetar. 

Vasari,  Giorgio,  Lives  of  the  Painters  (Blashfield's 
edition). 

Wiseman,  Preface  to  Cardinal  Wiseman's  novel, 
Fabiola. 


[HI] 


Index 


Abbey  aux  Dames,  79. 
Abbey  aux  Hommes,  79. 
Abelard,  121. 
Ambrose,  1 8. 
Amiens,  viii. 
Amiens  Copy,  107. 
Angelo,  xii,  102. 

Bayeux,  viii. 
Beauvais,  viii. 
Bernard,  Saint,  47. 
Bibliotheque  Nationale, 

116. 

Bologne  sur  Mer,  viii. 
Bouillon,  Godfrey  de,  45. 
Bourg,  viii. 
Browning,  113. 
Brunelleschi,  33. 

Caen,  viii,  73. 
Calderon,  90. 
Carpio  (see  de  Vega),  88. 
Cassiodorus,  105. 
Charlemagne,  1 06. 
Charles  le  Bel,  56. 
Charles  the  Bald,  55. 
Charles  the  Wise,  1 1 6. 


Chartres,  viii,  5 1 . 

Chaucer,  xiii,  I  26. 

Cherbourg,  viii. 

Cicely,  79. 

Clovis,  26, 27, 28, 52,55. 

Cnut,  62. 

Coutances,  viii. 

Corday,  97. 

Court  of  Love,  1 29. 

Crusade  of  Children,  xv. 

Denis,  Abbey  de  Saint,  3  8 . 
Denis,  Saint,  40. 
Dieppe,  viii. 
Dinan,  ix,  85. 
Dinard,  ix. 
Dols,  ix. 
Durer,  xiv. 
Durrow,  106. 

Ebbon,  29,  30. 
Eleanor,  Queen,  1 29. 
Eloi,  Saint,  40. 

Francis,  xvi. 
Fulbert,  62,  121. 
Fulda,  Abbot  of,  107. 


[143] 


Index 


Georgebus,  133. 
Ghiberti,  102. 
Gibbon,  55. 
Glass,  44,  69. 
Gothic,  9,  12,  43. 
Gothic,  viii,  76. 
Gothic,  69. 
Gregory,  19,  22. 
Grey,  Lady  Jane,  ill. 
Griselda,  I  25. 
Guibert,  64. 

Haimon,  Abbe,  67. 
Halicarnassus,  136. 
Harold,  82. 
Heloise,  121. 
Henry  of  Navarre,  56. 
Herodotus,  136. 
Hildebrand,  77. 
Hugh  of  Rouen,  67. 

Imagier,  34,  43,  47,  69. 

lona,  103. 

Ivo,  Saint,  63,  77. 

Jerome,  Saint,  50,  1 04. 

Keats,  72. 

Kells,  Book  of,  100. 

Laftance,  50. 
Laon,  viii,  6,  121. 
Lanfranc,  74. 
Le  Mans,  viii,  78. 
Louis  VI,  39. 


Louis  VII,  39. 

Louis  the  Pious,  29,  30, 

107. 

Louis,  Saint,  10,  56,  115. 
Love,  Court  of,  1 29. 
Lowell,  72. 
Lubin,  Well  of  Saint,  58. 

Maclou,  Saint,  viii. 
Madonna,  3  1 ,  5 1 ,  54, 70. 
Maria  of  Champagne, 

129. 

Margaret,  Saint,  108. 
Mario,  San,  ix. 
Martin,  17,  19,  20,  21, 

22,  23,  24,  26. 
Mathilda,  63,  79. 
Mazarin,  115,  1 16. 
Michele,  Mt.  San,  viii. 
Moliere,  1 16,  132. 

Napoleon,  7 1 . 
Naude,  115. 
Norsemen,  30,  57,  59. 

Ouen,  Saint,  viii,  frontis- 
piece. 

Paris,  viii,  5,  1 1 6. 
Parthenon,  17. 
Patiens  de  Lyons,  17. 
Pavia,  Certosa  di,  23. 
Philippe  le  Bel,  56. 
Portugal,  136. 
Provence,  128. 


[H4] 


Index 

Ravenna,  24.  Saint  Denis,  viii. 

Remi,  Saint,  26.  Sebastian,  Saint,  19. 

Revolution,  52.  Suger,  39,  46,  47,  48. 
Rheims,  viii,  7,  30. 
Richard  of  Normandy,  Tertullian,  50. 

60.  Thierry,  Saint,  63. 

Richelieu,  1 1 5.  Valencia,  92. 

Rodin,  12,  53.  Vega,  Lope  de,  88. 

Rollo,  59,73-  Vega,Micaelade,93. 

Rouen  vm.  Viollet-le-Duc,  1 2 
Kumald,  30. 

Ruskin,  12.  William  I,  74,  81,  82. 


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